


Destiny's Pawn: Taris

by Allronix



Series: Star Wars: Destiny of the Old Republic [6]
Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Canon-Typical Violence, Empath, F/M, Found Family, Light-Side Ending (Star Wars), Novelization, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 49,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25635550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allronix/pseuds/Allronix
Summary: Barely escaping a Sith ambush on theEndar Spire, Carth Onasi is in over his head. The planet of Taris is under quarantine, the Jedi key to the war effort is missing, and his fellow survivor is Bastila's protocol aide...At least, her file says she's a protocol aide, and Carth would bet his life that file is a fake.  Yes, she seems to know dozens of galactic languages, but a protocol aide is not supposed to fightthatwell with a vibroblade. A protocol aide shouldn't be able to pilot a swoop or to plan a smash and grab attack on an enemy base and yet Kairiana can. Worse, a plasma shock aboard theSpireleft her with complete memory loss, or so she says...Kairiana Niko should have died on theSpire.The plasma shock left her with no memory of her past and nerve damage, but surprisingly little damage otherwise. Forced to rely on Carth, she's well aware of his suspicions. She's reasonably sure he's correct. Yet with her employer missing and stuck on an occupied planet, there isn't time for speculation, only words from a past she can't quite recall.All things die, even the Force. The goal must remain.
Relationships: Carth Onasi/Female Revan
Series: Star Wars: Destiny of the Old Republic [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1362046
Comments: 37
Kudos: 25





	1. The Endar Spire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aud_McCartney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aud_McCartney/gifts), [Recyclops9000](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Recyclops9000/gifts), [iftheshoefits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iftheshoefits/gifts), [Milksapphire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milksapphire/gifts).



> Originally posted to kotorfanmedia and at fanfiction.net. I want to give a big shoutout to r/KOTOR for all the encouragement. No, not canon Revan. Not caring.

_Four thousand years before the rise of the Galactic Empire, the Republic verges on collapse. Weakened by a devastating war with the Mandalorians, the Republic suffers another blow when Revan and Malak, Jedi heroes of the Mandalorian War, fall to the Dark Side and return as conquerors at the head of an invincible Sith Armada._

_While the Jedi were able to destroy Darth Revan, Malak continues his war of conquest, crushing all resistance. The Republic fleet is decimated, and the Jedi are scattered - fallen in battle or pledging their service to the new Sith Master. In the skies above the Outer Rim world of Taris, a Republic transport has been ambushed by the Sith. Overwhelmed, the Endar Spire will not hold out long against the attackers._

_It is here, however, that the story only begins..._

****

**Part One**

**The Endar Spire**

"Move, move!" Carth herded the soldiers to their positions, tossing them blaster rifles or giving them a push on their backs to hurry them along. Lines of them passed by his eyes, a blur of red and yellow uniforms. The deck buckled beneath his feet and he struggled to keep his footing – only the long years of training and battle had given him those reflexes. The less-experienced crew settled for bracing themselves against walls or grabbing what they could to help them along.

The stench of fried electronics and blaster discharge was too familiar. Damn the Sith! Before they knew what hit them, the _Spire's_ shield generators and guns were off-line. It was executed with such terrible grace that he knew right away who had orchestrated it. If could put his blaster to Saul's head right now...

He herded other survivors to the escape pods. Chances were those Sith fighters would use them for target practice, but he had to take the chance. No man left behind and every effort to save what could be saved—the unspoken honor code of a soldier. Too bad that honor was as much as lost cause as this ship.

"Commander Onasi! Commander!" A petty officer's shout cut through the noise and chaos. Carth snapped his head up to look over at him.

"Report!"

"Sith boarding parties on decks twelve, five, and three. They're heading for the bridge! Reports of blaster fire in crew quarters, too."

There wasn't time to do anything but retreat at this point. He waved the petty officer ahead. "All right, send the order to Bastila - tell that Jedi that she's getting into one of these pods and _no arguments_." He secured the terminal, turning around and giving it two quick shots from his blaster to destroy it. At least he could hope the enemy wouldn't get anything valuable from this raid aside from the destruction of yet another Republic ship. Pushing his way in the opposite direction from the throng headed for the escape pods or the bridge, Carth ducked down a side corridor.

Things weren't looking good. Dead Sith soldiers leaned up against the walls. An equal—if not greater—number of Republic uniforms were among the bodies on deck. Two utility droids that had been trying to repair the damage in this corridor were useless wrecks, circuits ionized, and parts scattered. The only light came from the emergency panels and small fires that the suppression systems were too damaged to put out.

He saw movement ahead and pulled up the blaster. Red light crossed with green meant a blaster fight. Carth dropped behind a cargo crate for cover before trying to see what was going on. One Sith soldier was dead on the deck, the silver helmet shot through at close range. Two others were trying to hit a Republic soldier who dodged the blasts and countered. Dropping behind a bulkhead, the soldier pulled a frag grenade from his belt and threw it with one hand, jamming the hatch override with the other. The door dropped just as the blast and screams hit.

That's when the man turned around. Ensign Trask Ulgo was barely out of cadet stripes, but he'd already see too many battles. “Commander? Thought you were headed for –"

Carth shook his head, cutting off Trask's question. "Trask, you're with me. We're going to make a quick sweep of the crew quarters and grab anyone who's still alive, got it?"

"Aye, sir."

Carth slammed the button to the main corridor and charged out with Trask at his heels. The grinding noise of sirens and the muffled sounds of explosions were making his insides ache. The halls were scarred with blaster scorching or vibroblade cuts. There were more corpses, more ruined droids, and no reason to stop.

Trask took point as Carth watched their backs. Screams from the fallen and the clash of combat added to the noise. The Sith forces were advancing. They worked their way through the quarters, finding only empty rooms or a soldier shot dead before he'd even had time to reach for his blaster. Carth was just about to give up and order Trask to turn around so they could reach the pods when he heard a shout.

"Found a survivor, sir! Says her name's Kairi. She's all right!"

He didn't recognize her. She was a dark haired and dark-eyed woman built like a bird, barely tall enough to come up to his shoulder. Carth knew all the soldiers on the _Spire_ after these months. This woman must have been one of Bastila's assignments. Their Jedi "advisor" came aboard with quite the entourage—mostly other Jedi. She wasn't dressed in robes, and there wasn't a lightsaber on her belt, though. 

"You one of the Jedi?" Carth asked.

She shook her head. Civilian? Well, better than nothing. Trask pried a blaster from a nearby corpse and tossed it her direction before passing her a utility belt from the same corpse. Carth just hoped she was more likely to shoot the enemy than them or herself.

A disconcerting thud followed a shout on the deck right outside the room. Trask made the explanation short. "I'm Trask Ulgo, an ensign with the Republic fleet, and Commander Onasi is behind me.' Trask explained. The _Endar Spire_ is under attack! Hurry up—we don't have much time."

Carth elaborated as they started back through the corridors. "The ship's a loss. The Sith already boarded." The sizzle of damaged electronics and the shriek of a utility droid brought them back to the present danger outside the room. "We're walking right into hell.”

The maze of corridors and bulkheads was scarred and pitted, with only the sounds of the alarms as they made their way across the decks to the nearest escape pods. Trask moved recklessly, leaping over the piles of debris and wreckage in their path. Carth would have to lecture him on that later. Carth was in the middle with Kairi at the rear. At least she wasn't paralyzed with fear or hysterical. That would just make matters worse.

They were just about to the bridge, crossing one of the wide corridors when they heard. “Halt, Republic!”

Sith soldiers wore concealing armor that gave them the look of cold and impersonal killing machines in a polished exoskeleton. Three had blasters and a fourth, the officer, carried a vibroblade. Before they could shoot, the deck buckled beneath them, sending all parties sprawling to the deck, and the fight was on!

Carth managed to pick off the officer in two shots. Trask missed the first shot, but the second one wounded one of them in the leg. The attackers were so distracted that they didn't see the small sphere that landed at their feet with a cross of an explosion and shattered glass. A plasma grenade hit right in the center of the pack, blasting them with a wave of searing heat. The metal uniforms only intensified the effect and they collapsed, dead.

Carth looked behind him to see who threw it. The woman just nodded at him, gesturing to the belt pouch. “Not bad,” he commented as Trask set to work on the manual override of the bridge doors.

The bridge was in bad shape. The transparent plastisteel windows were starting to crack. It wouldn't be long before this area would vent to space. Bastila was not there, thankfully. For once, she must have listened to the advice of the Republic officers and got the hell of this crate.

The only ones still standing on the bridge were two Sith duelists with short swords. They were dressed in light fiber armor to add to their freedom of movement, and their faces had a half-mask, which concealed all but their eyes. Worse, there was a thin sheen surrounding them—energy shields. Trask tried to duck away but wasn't fast enough. The shields soaked up blaster shots, and they rushed him, knocking him to the deck and set upon him like a pack of kath hounds taking down prey. One of the duelists caught him in the ribs, yanking out the blade as foamy blood spurted from the wound. Carth kept firing to take out the shields, and one of the duelists, but it too late. Kairi's shots were less precise, but the second one was sent crumpling to the deck.

She pulled an equipment pack from the wall, running up to Trask. She had to know that those wounds were bad. Even if they got him out of here, he likely wasn't going to make it. Carth swallowed hard and let Kairi do what she could while he ran for the only functional panel left.

"There’s one escape pod left, and the Spire's going to fall apart in a couple minutes." He looked over at Trask and Kairi. "Let's get out of here."

Kairi pulled out a kolto bandage and clasped it to the one on his side, but Trask was gasping and bleeding in several places. She was trying to rummage through the kit with her other hand. Trask stopped her.

"No time for it," Trask said. "Get out of here. There's..."

Carth ran back. Kairi looked up at him, confused. Her silence was creepy, but this wasn’t the place to process it.

 _Leave no man behind_. Carth pulled Trask to his feet, the wounded man leaning on his and Kairi's shoulders for support.

The door to the escape pods slid open, but someone was waiting for them. Everything about his appearance was designed to elicit terror. His head was shaved, and black dueling armor was perfectly tailored to his tall, well-muscled frame, covering from the neck down, but still light enough for full movement. Over his shoulders was a flowing cape. He made no move but blocked the way to the bridge's escape pod. Another chilling sign of what they were dealing with; two of Bastila's Jedi entourage lay dead at his feet. The dark-clad man pulled something from his belt, smiling as a double-bladed red lightsaber flared to life.

Their half-second of hesitation was an opening for Trask. Despite his wounds, he struggled from their grasp. "For the Republic!"

Kairi tried to rush after him, but the door slammed shut as soon as he stepped through. Carth grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back. "He's dead already. I’m…sorry."

The two of them ran towards their last chance of escape. Carth started working the computer panel, gesturing to her to get into that last pod. "Bastila's already left. No reason to stick around and get shot."

The ship rocked and shuddered again. Carth pulled himself to his feet and tried to access the terminal, but Kairi plowed into him with a strength that he didn’t think someone that small should have, knocking him to the deck. He hadn’t even time to protest when he saw it – the conduit behind them had overloaded dangerously and it exploded. White fire surged from it and the terminal directly into her. She had shoved him just clear of the blast, taking the hit.

“No!”

He knelt by her, mostly as a formality. There was no way someone could live through that, but something in him had to check anyway. Carth gasped. She was breathing—still alive!

 _Leave no man behind_.

He scooped her up in his arms and strapped her into the escape pod before climbing in himself. Quickly, he set the launch, and they barely rocketed out of the doomed ship before it silently detonated behind them.


	2. Revan's Final Stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There is no comfort – there is suffering.   
> There is no love- there is loss.   
> There are no noble acts – only futile ones.   
> There is no salvation – there is oblivion.   
> All things die, even the Force.   
> The goal must remain.”

_A doomed ship, like the_ Spire _, but certainly not the same one. The technology was not Republic, hexagonal shapes and strange angles suggesting unknown and alien design. The lighting was dim and oppressive. Through the view ports, the battle raged._

_Republic fighters and Sith snub-nosed bombers dove and danced like insects, green and red blaster fire flashing briefly before connecting with their targets. Regrettable but necessary losses, all of them. Despite the technological advantage, their enemy still had better numbers. The readouts on the panels were broadcasting warnings and critical danger signals, but there were no audible alarms on this ship._

_Their leader waited for the inevitable. It was the last day of her life._ _Her mediation is neither the Sith Code one would expect, nor the Jedi Code she had forsaken, but a hard mantra born from the sacrifices of the Mandalorian Wars, the War they fight now, and the shadowy enemies that will never cease to come._

“There is no comfort – there is suffering.

There is no love- there is loss.

There are no noble acts – only futile ones.

There is no salvation – there is oblivion.

All things die, even the Force.

The goal must remain.”

_The ship was called the_ Prophesy _. In command was Revan; prodigy, renegade, hero, paragon, fallen one, traitor…She was aware of the titles, epithets, and insults. They were always imposed by others, and it was not worth the effort to try and correct them. Jedi masters, Mandalorian warriors, Sith Admirals – it mattered little. If anyone looked at her, it was always with the hope of seeing something they wanted reflected back. The Force allowed her to see the thing they desired from her and helped her give it to them._

_And may the Force have pity on anyone who gets exactly what they wish._

_The Sith under her command desired a perfect, unbreakable, terrifying leader. To that end, every aspect of her clothing was designed to convey the proper image. Thick-soled boots gave the illusion of height, heavy armor inspired by the design of their fallen Mandalorian foes to remind others of her successful conquest. Over the armor, she wore robes of ebony trimmed in scarlet to convey her attunement to the Force. The combination added bulk and obscured her figure. A repurposed droid vocorder in the neckpiece of her armor distorted her voice, amplifying it to make her commands clear, the robotic aspect adding to the imposing appearance. The mask was her chief symbol; taken from a fallen Mandalorian, it had been a message to them. They had their chance to receive mercy…and failed to take it. Now it was a sign that her enemies would be given no quarter. A more practical use for the mask was to make sure her face betrayed nothing. She could not show fatigue, pain, anger, puzzlement._

_The image –master of the Dark Side, fearsome warrior, conqueror – was necessary. The woman buried beneath the layers was a vestigial hindrance at best._

_Enemies were coming—enemies that would be destroyed lest they escape the doomed ship, lest they destroy the Dark Lord as the Council no doubt ordered. Revan shouted orders, transmitting plans to the ships that remained and cursing the Republic after the vocorder was switched off. How could their enemies see through the plans? How was it that the strategies could fail so badly?_

_A disturbance in the Force. The Jedi had come. Revan knew what they'd come for, and damned if they would get it!_

_The bridge doors opened. Four Jedi stepped forward. Three wore the traditional tan robes. The one who led them did not. She was quite young, with the build of a dancer—lithe and tall, wielding a lightsaber of sunshine yellow and burning bright with Force potential._

_Revan turned, sending a mute command to the honor guard to stop them. Four Dark Jedi rushed from the shadows to beat the invaders back. She could not look away. The clash of lightsabers, the sizzle of energy and the smell of ozone filled the air._

_The young Jedi leading the charge deflected and countered the attacks with astounding skill and reflexes. The strange part was how unruffled she looked in the heat of battle, not even one strand of syrup-brown hair seemed to come loose._

_Outside, the battle was all but lost. Strategy had failed, and the Dark Side was failing Revan. The only thing left was the the_ Prophesy's _bridge, and making certain these Jedi would never take a Dark Lord alive._

_There is no salvation; there is oblivion._


	3. The Upper City

With a gasp, she bolted awake in a panic only to be met with a horrible pounding behind her eyes. The room around her seemed to tilt and sway. The first thing she realized was that she had no idea where she was, what she was doing there, or even _who_ she was. The second thing she realized was that she wasn’t alone. A man was sitting at a lopsided table with his back to her.

"Where...where am I? Who are you...?"

He all but jumped out of his chair and rushed over when he heard her, grasping her shoulders. "Easy, there," he said. “Good to have you up instead of thrashing about in your sleep. Must have been having one hell of a nightmare.”

The voice…In moments of liminal consciousness, he was the one who helped her sit up and drink some water, rubbing her back gently with one hand while he held a flask with the other. She couldn’t recall the words he said, but she knew the emotion behind them. He had been weary and afraid, calling to her, pleading with her not to die. She looked him over, trying to see what she could learn about her rescuer. He was a human of medium build and a little taller than average, with skin paler than hers. He had auburn hair cut in a military style despite the errant strands drifting in his face, brown eyes, high cheekbones and a square jaw with several days’ worth of beard. There were no identifying insignia on his clothing; leather jacket of a dull orange-brown, work pants, and boots. No jewelry aside from what seemed to be a promise ring on his left hand. She still couldn’t place the accent.

“We’re in an abandoned apartment on the planet of Taris. It’s safe for the moment. I'm Carth, one of the Republic soldiers from the _Endar Spire._ I was with you in the escape pod. Do you remember?"

Her gaze went inward, trying to make sense of what happened. The only thing she truly remembered was the smell of smoke and blood, the sounds of blaster fire and alarms, the blur of red and yellow uniforms and silver armor. She remembered an ominous sizzle and a whiff of ozone. Then there was a flash of incredible pain… "I... I remember a battle. Some horrible noise…a bright light…" She put her head in her hands. "But everything else...it's a blank!"

To still her racing heartbeat and quell the panic, she breathed deep and focused on only the present. There was the bed beneath her – thin and hard, a threadbare blanket over her legs. There was the smell of rot and neglect around her. She could hear the sounds of a city outside; airspeeders and machines, the whir of power systems and the hum of activity.

"You're lucky to be alive at all, shoving me out of the way of that exploding conduit.” Carth pulled his hands back, embarrassed. “Uh…Thank you, by the way. You've been in and out of consciousness for a few days, so I imagine you're confused. Try not to worry. We’re safe for the moment."

That put context to what was left of her memory. Yes, they were on a Republic ship under attack. Carth and another man had found her, and they fought their way to the escape pods. The other man was dead, and they were alone. She sensed the power conduit about to explode, and in that split second...

_A foolish decision that left you wounded and defenseless, at the mercy of a man you know nothing about._ She was diminished…compromised. She knew that much, but not the specifics.

Carth handed her a datapad. "Here, it's got your service record on it. Maybe it'll bring back a few things."

What did he want from her? Why would he have risked so much to save someone who could be so little use to him, much less watched over her for days? The obvious answer didn’t even seem to apply; maybe women didn’t interest him, or it had to do with the ring on his left hand. _He has a reason for keeping you alive, but perhaps he does not even know what it is._

She took the datapad, reading it over in silence and hoping it would bring some insight. _Kairiana “Kairi” Niko, Civilian Advisor, class three. Assignment: Language translation and diplomatic aide to Jedi Bastila Shan..._ The file was barely a page long and didn’t help much; name and occupation, Republic ID number, a planet of birth (Deralia, a remote and unimportant planet that was technically in Hutt space), no living family... 

"According to this, you're a linguist and protocol expert specializing in Outer Rim cultures that Bastila hauled along for the mission as her aide," Carth explained. “Not sure why a Jedi would need one of those instead of getting a droid, but she’s not here to ask.”

That name…for the briefest of moments, something connected in her mind, but it was just as quickly gone. "Bastila? Who is she again?" She scanned through the datapad, trying to cross-check entries. Unfortunately, with the ship’s computer destroyed and no holonet access in the hideout, there wasn’t anything else to find.

Carth pulled back in disbelief. "Bastila's a Jedi that’s key to the whole Republic war effort. We were headed to Taris on her orders when the Sith ambushed us. They probably attacked the ship _just_ to get her."

"How can one person, even a Jedi, be so important?" She scowled and rubbed her forehead. The sharp pain had faded to a dull ache, but the disorientation and lack of clear memory wasn’t improving. “No one person ever is.”

“Right place, right time? One person or one decision can make _all_ the difference. I’ve seen it myself.” He tried to explain. "Bastila has this gift called Battle Meditation. Don't ask me how it works, but she's able to influence the course of a fight just by sheer will. That's the reason why Malak wants her so badly."

_Malak..._ She felt a chill when Carth said the name but couldn’t place why. 

"A little over a year ago, Bastila’s strike team managed to assassinate Revan, and we thought that without Revan, the Sith would just…implode. That’s the way a lot of Republic and Sith conflicts turn out; cut the head off and the army collapses into infighting and panic. Not this time. Malak just stepped up and took command. He doesn’t have anything close to Revan’s tactical brilliance, but he makes up for it in raw, brutal power.” Carth walked to the window, peering through the grime, before quickly covering it back up. “Worse is that the Sith ships and war droids are of an alien design that gives them a huge tactical advantage. We don’t even know where they got that kind of tech. Bastila’s abilities are the only thing buying the Republic time to try and catch up."

Kairi knew those names should have connected to something in her head, but all she could see when she tried to think about what it could have meant was that dark, bottomless pit."It's...” She shook her head to stop the feeling like she was going to slip and fall. “I should know all this. There are bits, pieces...nothing makes sense. It’s like the knowledge is there, but I can’t access it. I can’t remember anything before the battle on the ship, and even that’s a blur.”

"I've seen the damage a plasma shock can do. The victim’s nervous system and brain just fry from the overload. Even if someone survives, they almost never regain consciousness. I’m surprised…well, glad…that you’re awake.” He looked her over, holding up a finger and moving it, watching as her eyes tracked it. He also squeezed her wrist and fingers, checking her reflexes. “How are you feeling? Anything numb? Tingling? Any pain?”

If it was such a thin hope that she would survive, then why did he make so much effort to care for her? She was grateful to him for saving her life, but it still didn’t make sense. “My hands feel stiff, and the headache seems to be getting better. I feel a little weak.”

“We get out of this, and I’d like to have you checked over at a proper medcenter. In the here and now, a second set of eyes looking for Bastila would be a big help."

Kairi put aside the datapad. “You’ve confirmed she’s alive?”

“No. But Bastila is young and healthy. She’s also got a strong command of the Force. The Sith put a blockade in orbit and patrols on the surface trying to find her. Since they haven’t stopped their search, it’s likely that she’s managed to avoid detection. Besides, what’s the alternative? If she’s dead or...” Carth stopped himself. “Well, that means there’s nothing standing in Malak’s way, and I would rather operate on the hope she’s out there.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Let me see if I’ve understood our situation. You are a Republic officer. I’m a civilian aide to a Jedi who is key to the war effort. We survived a battle and I was grievously injured. It wasn’t likely that I’d survive, much less regain consciousness. We are on an occupied world with a key asset to the Republic missing, and you…” She looked up at him, bewildered. “You still chose to tend to my injuries? Why?”

“Why?” He shifted on his heels, scowling.

“Saving me endangered your own life, risking detection by the enemy and means you couldn’t be out there looking for my employer, putting both her and the Republic’s mission in danger.” Her face warmed and she turned away. “Your superiors would have understood that I’m expendable. A noble act is often futile.”

Was her damaged mind playing tricks, or did she feel a jolt of irritation and surprise from him? It passed quickly. "Yes, there’s the war and the Republic to think about, but if you aren’t going to war to protect others, _especially_ civilians, then you’re fighting it for the wrong reasons. I've never left anyone behind on a mission, and I'm not about to start."

He had made his decision, he stood by it, and there was no point in arguing it further. "All right, Carth. I’ll help you find her. It's all I can trade for my life.”

His face hid absolutely nothing; unease and an undercurrent of fear that was quickly banished by concern and protectiveness. Part of her felt ashamed for him. Did he have any idea just how…exposed he was? He might as well be walking about naked.

“None of that. You saved my life, I saved yours. We’re even.” He quickly changed the subject. "Anyway, you aren’t as ‘expendable’ as you seem to think. While you were unconscious, I did some scouting. The planet's one big city, and the deeper you go, the worse it gets. We crashed in what passes for the ‘good’ part of the planet, but other pods landed in the slums below us. There’s a large non-human population down there. I'm no linguist. Aside from Basic, I know enough Huttese to ask directions, and enough Mandalorian to start a fight. If any of your linguistic talents are intact, we'll need them.”

She hesitantly got out of the bed and took a few slow steps. Her balance and muscle coordination appeared to be fine, albeit a little weak. Flexing her fingers helped the pins and needles feeling subside. He watched for any lingering signs of neurological damage, ready to intervene if she fell over.

Carth continued his explanation. "The Republic's not going to be able to help us—not with the blockade. The good news is that the Sith searching for Bastila means a couple nobodies like us might be able to move about undetected. We can use this apartment as a hideout. The Sith don’t have enough manpower to go door to door. The second bit of good news is that many of the citizens are armed. Tarisian nobles get into duels over petty insults, and we're still talking about the Outer Rim."

He handed her the blaster she carried from the _Spire_ , along with the utility belt to holster it. She clipped on the belt but inspected the blaster. She turned it around in her fingers, examining the notches and curves in it. The principles were straightforward enough – disable safety, pull trigger, and don’t point it at anything you didn’t plan on shooting. It felt strange in her hand, heavy and crude. No doubt she had at least minimal weapons training; just enough to use them if needed, but not enough to be comfortable with carrying them. Yes, that had to be it.

"I hope we'll find Bastila before her enemies do." She finished her inspection of the blaster, putting it back in the holster and pulled on her jacket to cover it. After she put it on, she paused, feeling in the pocket and pulling out a set of leather hair ties with silver beads. She remembered these. The memory was vague, more feelings than fact. Someone gave these to her; a woman with a lilting Inner Rim accent and long, thin fingers who used these to braid her hair. Kairi tried to recall the woman’s face or any clear details, only to be met with a painful vertigo that snapped her back to the present. “You saved these?”

Carth shrugged. “They were yours. Use the panel over there, it’s the closest thing to a mirror. I cleaned off the grime best I could.”

The panel had once been a glass interior door. Maybe in better days, it had been shined and used to allow more light into the room. She scrutinized her reflection the way someone might try and memorize an important dossier they’d only see once. She watched as the reflection moved in sync with her. Yet, it was as unfamiliar as the feel of a blaster in her hands.

She was small, with narrow hips and a small bust, though it still seemed to stick out more than it ought to. Despite her recent injuries, her muscle tone indicated that she was in top physical condition. Given she was part of a Jedi’s entourage, this was probably expected. Her face was wider in the forehead, with a small chin. Her nose and cheekbones were a little broader than ideal, adding to her vaguely androgynous appearance. Her skin was a dusky tan. Her eyes were deep-set and large, irises almost the same midnight-black as her long, thick hair.

She was only half-examining herself, however. Carth remained silent, but he was watching her. He was still so… _open_ that she felt awkward; concern, fear, wariness. He didn’t speak, but he somehow seemed very loud. Kairi wanted to cover her face and look away.

Deep breath. They had work to do, finding her Jedi employer in this vast maze of a city-world, and no time to waste on introspection. She tied back her hair, feeling some degree of focus and control return.

“Thank you.” She put her hands behind her back, looking square at him. If he could not control his emotions, she would have to control her own. “I'm certain there are those who are sympathetic to the Republic here, or at the very least opposed to the Sith, and the very idea of a Jedi crashing here would generate a lot of talk. A cantina, preferably one by the spaceports, would likely have some of both.”

"Good idea. I just hope we don’t land in a Sith garrison." He stared out the grimy window, checking for a patrol. Thankfully, none were in the immediate area. "I've heard some grim things about Dark Jedi interrogation techniques. They say the Force can to terrible things to a mind. It can wipe away your memories and destroy your very identity."

"It's bad enough I can't recall anything now." Kairi grimaced. "I'd sooner not find out if those rumors are true."

"I don't either," Carth admitted. "Just…follow my lead. I’ll do my best to get us through. Alright, soldier, let's move out."

The apartment complex itself was poorly laid out, running around in a circle with spokes of side halls and rows of unmarked doors. They had run into two dead ends on the way to the lift when they heard the clank of metal boots on the floor and sharp voices arguing. Carth held out an arm to stop Kairi and ducked back behind the corner.

A female Sith trooper with delusions of grandeur and two combat droids for backup had a pair of Duros up against the wall.

"You had _better_ tell me where you hid those uniforms, alien scum. The Sith can make your life..." Her voice dropped ominously. "Nasty and short otherwise. Tell us what you know of the Tarisian underground and we might reduce your punishment."

Both of the Duros men talked at once. Carth’s expression made it clear he didn’t comprehend the language, so she translated the gist of it. "They say they don't know anything."

"With the Sith, that won't matter," Carth whispered, pushing her behind him for cover. "She'll kill them anyway."

Carth must have must have spoken too loudly. The officer's blaster rifle swung from the pair of Duros and over to them. "You there! Come out with your hands up!” the trooper warned. “Just what are a pair of humans doing in filth like this?”

Again, the taller of the two Duros tried to explain, but the officer wasn’t buying it. “Down on their luck spacers ‘renting’ a room in this flophouse? Not likely. They must be more Republic fugitives. Droids, attack!”

So much for trying to lie low. The smaller of the Duros seized the opportunity to jump forward and make a grab for the rifle, causing the shot to hit a door across the hall, but the combat droids gunned him down before Carth’s rapid fire destroyed them. Kairi ducked behind the corner, slow to draw her blaster, but shot the officer in the shoulder, causing her to drop her weapon with an angry howl. The Duros used that opportunity to drop to the floor and grab the rifle, shooting the trooper dead. 

The Duros knelt by his friend, but there was nothing to be done. Kairi translated as he spoke.

_< <"Poor Ixgil. He knew this was dangerous, but he insisted…”>> _He sagged with grief. _ <<” I am glad that you were able to step in and help, humans.">>_

_< <"We have to move. They’ll search for this patrol.">>_ Kairi said. Her Durese wasn’t flawless, as human jaws weren’t shaped correctly to mimic the phenomes, but she was still understandable.

_< <"I can throw the Sith off-track, and they won't bother us again for a while. They aren’t wasting manpower on a slum like this if they don’t have to. I'll move the bodies, and I’ll also take her uniform. That way, it will look like this soldier and Ixgil got caught in the gang war.">>_

When she quickly translated for Carth, he asked, "Gang war? You mean the gangs are fighting the Sith? Is the Republic behind this?"

_< <"Ah, guess the Sith was right.”>> _He continued as he started gathering up the droid parts and hiding them in a non-functional wall vent. << _"If you’re friends of the Republic, the Hidden Beks are the ones you want to talk to. They’d probably be mounting an attack to drive the Sith out of the Lower City if the Black Vulkars weren’t shooting everything in sight." >>_

"I suppose it's because I'm not from here, but why are gangs fighting the Sith?" Carth asked.

_< <"Davik, the big Exchange boss here, cut a deal with the Sith; maybe so he could have the Sith wipe out the gangs for him. The Black Vulkars have become powerful and stupid enough to try and make Davik look weak so they can take over. The Beks are their rivals, the only ones big enough to try and keep them in check. When the Mandalorians came here, the Beks helped drive them out. They’re still the closest thing to law you get in the Lower City. Gadon Thek, the Bek leader, is gathering resources and uniting gangs to stand up to the Sith and show them what we showed the Mandalorians! That is why supporters send them supplies and information from the Upper City. Beks are glad to help anyone who is no friend of Sith. You should go there. Elevator is in The Maze over in the North Sector, near the base. Mention that I sent you and Gadon will do what he can.">>_

Kairi glanced up at Carth. “Looks like we didn't have to travel far at all to get a lead.” She then looked back at the Duros. << _"But about the uniforms?" >>_

_< <"Beks take Sith armor and uniforms. Not sure why, but it’s probably part of a plan.">>_

When Kairi translated this to Carth, a plan seemed to start brewing. "Interesting. Maybe the Beks can point us in the right direction. We certainly could use local intel."

_< <"We'll check it out, thank you_,">> she said.

The Duros handed them a small bag. _ <<"Take this. Gangs loot the bodies, and I think you could use it.">>_

Kairi opened it. Five hundred credits in extortion money were inside.

_< <"Best of luck, enemies of Sith,">>_ said the Duros, already slinging the corpse of the officer over his shoulders and vanishing from sight.

Like an aging beauty, the Upper City of Taris was more beautiful when one saw it for what it must have looked like in its prime, not in its present. Graceful skyscrapers hundreds of meters high had been built in the circular or arching design that was the height of fashion a century ago. Abstract sculptures gently turned on repulsorlift bases and the fountains flowed, recycling their water in a never-ending pattern. It was enough to overlook the less than kind aspects of time, like the scars left by acid rain on the sculpture or the overly chemical smell of the water with its grimy coins at the bottom and mildew growing into the cracked permacrete. The Upper City's citizens seemed as part of the landscape—faded beauty. Most wore fashionable clothes and carried themselves with a jaded air, lacking interest in what was around them as they did their daily business. Well-maintained but outdated protocol or maintenance droids could be seen on their tasks. It had rained recently, and the streets were slightly slick, the air heavy with ozone. All the sensory input was pulling her concentration in several directions at once, screaming for her attention, and thinking through it was almost impossible. There was just so... _much_...around her. Her mind felt broken; unable to filter out what was important and what was not. There was knowledge, but no context. She could read the Aurabesh script on the posters and signs but could not recall where she learned to read it. She heard a foreman of a maintenance crew bark orders in Huttese to one group of workers, then repeat the order in Basic, but could not know why she understood the languages or which she learned first. 

Had she been here before?

Kairi looked around, trying to place the words to objects, hoping something might trigger any trace of a memory. Her head felt like it was scraped raw and most of her body felt shaky and weak, low level pain across her limbs and into her fingers. It was like coming out of a bad fever. She could not admit weakness or linger abed; it would do no good.

A Sith patrol of five troopers passed by, incongruous with the rest of the surroundings. Their polished armor and precision of movement clashed greatly with the complacency and mild neglect of the surroundings. Everything about them was cold, efficient, brutal and hard. It was strangely compelling, a sight of order amid the disorganization and shabbiness of the city.

She tried to listen to some of the conversations as she passed by but couldn't hear many words over the noise. Still, there was something that hummed low and loud through the air. It spiked when the patrol walked by and people halted their conversations.

_Fear._

The Maze was aptly named for its narrow, twisting passageways. It showed more neglect than most of the Upper City—overflowing refuse bins, the odd graffiti on a wall. It would be a good place to lose someone in more ways than one. It was also strangely abandoned, as if no one had reason to even venture into the area's labyrinth of alleys and decay.

Unfortunately, a fully armored soldier was guarding the lift, and with the base nearby, overpowering him wasn't an option. They waited in a nearby blind alley. Maybe the end of his shift would give them a chance.

Two more armored troopers walked up to the guard. Giving them a cursory glance, he opened the elevator doors and waved them past. "Did you see that?" Carth asked. "The guard's lazy. He's not even bothering to check ID. If we manage to get our hands on some uniforms, I'll bet we can sneak right past him."

"We should have asked the Duros back at the apartment," Kairi said. "Or find another way to steal some uniforms."

"We'll add that to the grocery list," Carth said as they followed the maze of back streets and dead-end alleys. "Now, first, we're going to have to --"

"Help! Someone!" It was the voice of an old man. With it, came a sharp...she couldn't call it pain because it did not hurt physically, but it jolted her already taxed nerves.

Carth pulled his blaster as did Kairi, looking around to see where the shout came from.

"Help!" called the old man again. Carth ran first, and she tried to keep up. In the confusion, she fell behind, and they managed to get separated. That’s why she saw them first.

Two menacing-looking thugs – a human and an Aqualish—had an old man pinned against the wall in a trash and debris-stuffed alley. No Sith or anyone else was in sight. No security cameras or droid drones. No one else within earshot. The thugs had chosen this location carefully.

"Davik doesn't like people missing payments old man," the human thug said. He brandished a nasty-looking but cheap vibroknife, holding it to the man's throat.

"But I don't have the hundred credits." The old man was shaking now. "I've only half that. Please, take it and go."

The Aqualish laughed. His human companion just shrugged.

"Too bad. Davik wants it in full. We're just going to have to take it out of you another way…" The human thug sneered.

And that’s when they noticed they had a witness. Kairi held the blaster steady. Something told her that she ought to be afraid, but all she could muster was annoyance. Sith soldiers against Resistance members was justified. Two low level enforcers trying to extort payment from a man old enough to be their grandfather was merely contemptible.

There wasn’t a point to trying to run away from the thugs, since they knew the terrain and she still didn’t feel up to full strength. She would only get hunted down and shot. Right now, she had an advantage and a chance to defuse the situation. “Leave him be and I’ll forget I saw you.”

The pair seemed to consider it for a moment. Just as it seemed that they were going to back off, the Aqualish spun around and shot the old man in the leg. The human with the blade lunged, and sliced through her jacket, leaving a long, jagged gash in her arm. The blood on her hand made the blaster slide out of her grip.

Before the man with the vibroknife could strike a second time, she saw it coming. Muscle memory and reflex did not require conscious thought. Pushing his arm to the side, she spun and kicked the man into the wall as hard as she could. The cheap knife clattered to the permacrete. A second strike to the back of his neck knocked him cold. The Aqualish fired on her, forcing her behind a refuse bin. Just then, a second blaster shot hit him square in the chest, and he collapsed.

Kairi retrieved the knife and her blaster, then ran over to the old man. The wound in his leg was painful, but not immediately life-threatening. The sharp discomfort she had felt when she heard his cry had dulled to a steadier ache. She heard Carth behind her.

"Damn it, Kairi."

She looked behind her shoulder. "I was following _your_ lead, remember?”

Carth swore under his breath. "He got your arm. You're bleeding."

Kairi pulled off her shirt and ripped it to rags to bandage the old man's wound and her own. She was down to her undershirt, but modesty wasn’t a priority under the circumstances.

The man groaned. "Zelka...his clinic is nearby."

"I just hope he's not one for questions." Carth helped the old man up, allowing him to lean heavily on him and Kairi as they hurried along the labyrinth of streets.

The clinic was maybe a kilometer from the attack. The pair pushed open the doors and Carth bellowed for a medic. Within seconds, a repulsorlift stretcher and two medtechs whisked the old man off. Carth insisted on going with Kairi and a third medtech as they led her to another treatment room.

A synthskin bandage took care of Kairi's wound, and one of the medtechs found her a shirt, but they were told to wait in the treatment room while their droids ran some tests to make certain the knife didn't have toxins on it. It left them alone for a good while in uncomfortable silence. Something was clearly bothering him, but he either didn’t want to talk or wasn’t ready to. Kairi couldn’t blame him. She was still overwhelmed, feeling residual aches in muscles she hadn’t used for days. Worse was how her mind was both overloaded with the newness of everything and a terrifying blank at the same time. How did she know how to counter that knife attack?

She had been through two firefights in her six hours of memory. Of course, the Sith picked the fight and those bounty hunters were about to slice apart some old man who probably hadn't done anything but borrow a handful of credits. On “flimsiplast,” she didn’t seem to have the background to be so comfortable with combat. That was…disturbing, but it was also likely that all members of the _Endar Spire’s_ crew had to have martial training of some kind, given it was a warship with a key Republic asset aboard. Yes, that had to be it…

_Again, you were wounded. You can tell yourself that you were merely following the lead of your companion, but that is not the truth. Again, you make a foolish decision, putting yourself at risk for another when you had no stake in the conflict._

“You did the right thing,” Carth said quietly, as if arguing back with her thoughts. “One old man against two armed thugs didn’t stand a chance.”

“What makes it the right thing?” she asked.

He did not move, but the question unsettled him greatly. “There’s enough greed, stupidity, and petty cruelty in the galaxy. No sense in adding to it. You do for others what you hope others would do for you.”

She experimentally rubbed her healing arm. "And that’s why you have a predilection for heroics?”

He made it a point not to look her in the eyes. “It’s not ‘heroics.’ It’s being a soldier. I’m just doing what any soldier would do under the same circumstances. I go where the fleet admirals tell me to, following orders, doing my duty...” Carth shifted in his chair. “Not to be insulting, but I’m used to civilians not understanding that.”

_He is more loyal to ideals than reality, despite the experience of knowing the difference._ “Explain it to me, then. Your own words.”

“You _really_ want me to talk about myself?”

“Yes. Right now, you know more about me than I do about myself, and I know almost nothing about you. If I’m to ‘follow your lead,’ then I need know more.”

"I guess you have a point. I get the feeling we're going to be stuck together for a while." Carth scowled for a moment, folded his arms and relaxed against the wall. "I've seen plenty of war, Kairi. Was fighting in the Mandalorian wars before this started, mostly from the cockpit of one ship or another. I’ve flown everything; hammerheads, Inexies, freighters, A-wings…even a Basilisk droid once. Going out in an A-wing or piloting a warship, I could at least feel I had a chance of knocking the enemy back before they hurt anyone else.”

“Were the Mandalorian Wars much different than now?” she asked.

“The Mandalorians were…brutal. They’d hit hard and fast, killing whole cities or burning continents until a planet surrendered, but at least they had some limits. Back then, Revan and Malak were Jedi— _heroes_. They hit the Mandies as hard as they were hitting us, but when they became Sith…” He hesitated, and then shook his head. "My home world was Telos, one of the first to fall to Malak's fleet. The Sith bombed it to ashes, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do to stop them."

_Telos…_ For some reason, Kairi knew that was an important fact, but she couldn’t piece together _how or why_ it was important. She filed the information away for later. There was something in the way he said it that flagged her interest; the attack hadn’t been a surprise. "You believe you could have prevented it?”

"Yes! Well…maybe…” Anger slipped into his voice. "I don’t know. Just..." He sighed with frustration, one hand running through his hair. "I…I did what I thought was the right thing at the time. That doesn’t mean I failed them. I... I didn't!"

“Them?”

Carth sighed heavily again. "I'm not making sense, am I? You probably mean well, but I'm just not accustomed to talking about my past very much. At all, actually.” He parried her questions with his own. “How are you holding up? We’ve landed in two fights today and that would make anyone rattled."

Honorable, idealistic, very likely married. Career soldier but faced combat in the stars where death was faster and more distant than the trenches. Not much of an ego. Blamed himself for his homeworld’s fall (was there a reason for that?). He was putting a lot of effort into trying to make her feel safe; deflecting talk about himself, keeping an eye out for any signs that her injuries were going to impede her, trying to take point on any dangerous situation. Stranded on a strange world with no memory and still recovering from grave injury, the Force could have been far crueler. For now, she had little option but to rely on him, so there was no sense in antagonizing him. 

“I’m…fine. Just sorry that I hurt you.” She was grateful for his kindness, even if she really couldn’t understand it. “I’ll be more careful with my questions. As you said, we’re going to be stuck together.”

“No, I can…understand it. If I was in your position, I’d have a lot of questions, too.” Maybe she was seeing what she wished to see, but he seemed to relax a little. 

The door opened, and a dark-skinned human man in late middle age checked his pad and looked them over. "I can tell from your clothing you're from off-world. Still never let it be said that I turn away someone in need. My name is Dr. Zelka Forn, and you are..."

She let Carth do the talking. He was in a better position to give a plausible cover story. “Carth and my…partner, Kairi. We were just passing through and got stranded by the quarantine.”

Zelka looked at the healing gash on Kairi's arm. "Well, good...no adverse reactions to the dermal regeneration pack." He made a note on his datapad and looked up at her again. "How did it happen?"

"Two bounty hunters and an old man," Carth explained. “One of them had a vibroblade.”

Zelka seemed impressed. "So, you're the pair of spacers that rescued Leto? Well, for that you have my thanks. They were Davik’s goons. I wouldn't worry too much about the law here seeking reprisal."

"Figures," said Carth.

"How did an old man like him run afoul of bounty hunters in the first place?" Kairi asked. “You’d think there would be better targets.”

"Davik Kang is the resident ‘boss’ for the Exchange syndicate. Biggest crime organization outside of Hutt Space. Has his dirty hands in almost everything on Taris. During the last outbreak of Corellian flu, Davik seized the shipments of medicine and the price soared. Those who couldn't pay were forced to take out loans—not even I could reason with him." Zelka shook his head. "Leto did everything to try to save his wife. Even after the medicine, her system was badly weakened. She passed away some months later. Davik responded by doubling the ‘interest’ on the loan he took out to cover the medicine."

Carth grimaced. "Nice guy."

Zelka took out a medical scanner. "But, back to the subject of you, Miss. I was checking for toxins. Fortunately, I didn't find any." He stroked his chin as he checked the datapad again. "I did detect evidence of other neural damage, though. Any dizziness in the past few days? Faintness?"

"She got too close to a transformer that blew," said Carth, attempting not to give out too many details. "Knocked her unconscious for a few days. Her memory's been fuzzy after that. Bad headache, too."

Zelka whistled. "You're quite lucky if that’s the case, and it would explain some of the readings. Physically, you seem to be doing all right for the most part, but I want you back here in two days for a complete scan. I’ll also pass you my comlink number, just in case."

"I want her to get checked out, doctor, but we're...we're little low on credits right now," Carth explained.

"That doesn't matter. I'm not here for the credits. Just pay what you can. I operate on a sliding scale." Zelka shook his head. "When I was younger and braver, I'd go to the Lower and Under Cities often to heal the sick. No one is turned away here—not the richest Tarisian noble, and not the poorest Outcast."

"Outcasts?" Kairi asked.

Zelka sighed, and his entire body slumped from long-held grief. "Aside from the Sith and the nobles, the only universal law on Taris is the law of your credits or blaster. When this planet was in its heyday, there was some illusion of local law. Now, there are only two punishments for any crime that manages to offend the nobility; either a quick death by cyanide gas or a slow one by banishment to the Undercity.” He rummaged in his kit for another scanner as he continued. "The people living there, the Outcasts, are mostly decent, sentenced there for petty crimes. Unfortunately, the rakghouls have them under siege constantly."

"Rakghouls? What are they?" Kairi asked.

"It's a disease that's plagued Taris for decades. The Undercity is filled with the creatures—horrible monsters that feed on flesh, and anyone bitten or scratched soon mutates into a rakghoul themselves. I've been working on a cure for years, but just as I was about to create a vaccine to send down there, the Sith confiscated my notes and my test batches to use for themselves. It isn’t like the authorities here give a damn what happens to the Outcasts." Zelka's tone was bitter. "I hear the Sith have actually used my work to make a viable serum for their patrols that go into the Undercity. If only I could get my hands on a sample of it. I remember enough of my notes that I'd be able to make it myself if I could just see the finished product—all that work for nothing." Zelka made another scan. “Anyway, you both are free to go for now.”

“Will Leto pull through?” Carth asked.

Zelka nodded. “Yes, he’ll be fine. It’s just a matter of paying off those last credits to Davik.”

Kairi looked at their limited stash of credits. “How much will you charge for fixing my arm?”

“Call it a hundred even. He didn’t injure you badly.”

_An honest debt must be paid._ That inner voice admitted. _But do not weaken yourself further._

A second impulse, weaker and less established, made a counterargument. _You have been shown great kindness and generosity these last few hours. You may not have much to give, but that blood money stolen from the Sith can at least have a good use._

Perhaps kindness could weaken, but it could also tell her much about Carth and Zelka, perhaps influencing them in the future. It could even, in some small way, weaken Davik, an ally to the Sith. And how would a small kindness done to someone else feel? After all, she was still trying to understand who she was.

Yes, a test. A small act of kindness, no more than a pebble thrown into a lake to see a pattern in the ripples. She fished the hundred credits – and fifty extra – out of the bag, then looked over at Carth. He nodded in silent agreement.

“I don’t like owing a debt, and we’ve heard enough about Davik. Give whatever is left over to Leto so he can put it towards his debt. It’s all we can do.”

Zelka took it and inspected it. "I know spacers. Most look out only for themselves out of necessity. I wasn't going to charge you for this; you were injured saving an old man's life, but you're also helping to pay his debt to Davik?"

“If he’s half as bad as you say, doctor, the man’s scum. If this gets Davik’s hounds off his back, we’ve done our job,” Carth elaborated.

"I was beginning to forget there are benevolent spirits that still walk among us," Zelka said. "I'll make sure this covers Leto's debt to Davik. The only good part about that man is that he calls off the bounties once debts are paid. With this, it can help Leto can live out his days without fear."

After Zelka left the room, they continued to watch the door.

"We could have used that to get supplies, y'know," Carth said quietly.

"You said it yourself. Soldiers fight for those who cannot defend themselves." Kairi said distantly. "I would call it money well-spent."

  
  


After a pause, Carth nodded with agreement. "Very well spent."

He was right. And even if it was a small kindness today, it would be a brief respite. It would cover Leto’s debt for a short time only. Yet…it felt good. Zelka obviously approved and Carth’s protest was token at best. Yes, this test was a success. 

  
  


They came to the door they used to enter the clinic only to find it locked. A sign on the door read that the entrance was locked after the eighteenth hour.

Carth rolled his eyes. "Geez. I swear Taris was designed by some near-sighted guy with a hang-up for labyrinths."

"Best to go back to Zelka's office and ask if he can escort us out."

Retracing their steps, they walked back into the main lobby of the clinic. It didn't take long. Zelka was checking the supplies. He didn't see them but closed the door behind him. They approached the door and knocked. No answer. The lock was easy enough to slice, but they walked in, Zelka was nowhere to be found.

"I don't get it," Carth said. "How could he just vanish?"

"Maybe there's more than one way out," Kairi said, feeling the edge of the shelves. "Carth, this one's not attached to the wall. I think..." She traced the edge until she found a panel, concealed as an ordinary temperature gauge.

A hidden door slid open, revealing a lift. Stepping inside, the lift whisked them upwards, stopping at what appeared to be the topmost level—storage. The doors opened and they stepped out. It wasn't storage they found. The room was no bigger than the main room of their hideout. Inside kolto tanks were nearly a dozen critically injured men. Zelka was checking the readings on one of them when he heard them enter. He whirled around, dropping the datapad that was in his hand, but was otherwise paralyzed with terror.

Carth's eyes went wide. "These men. Kairi, I recognize them! That’s Kobet…and Erig…and Thayzan… Zelka, you've been..."

"You recognize them?" Zelka asked. "But how...unless...unless you're Republic soldiers."

"I have been for most of my life," said Carth. "Our escape pod crashed, and we were able to get away. Guess we were the lucky ones."

"Good to know some managed to survive—and stay out of Sith hands." Zelka finally let out that breath he was holding, picking the datapad he dropped from the floor. "Since the battle, people have brought these survivors in. These men...they likely won't survive. All I can do is make their dying moments more comfortable, but I couldn't just hand them over."

"For that, you have my deepest thanks." Carth extended his hand in gratitude. "I’m glad these soldiers found their way into compassionate hands."

Zelka gladly shook hands. "I’m also glad that the two of you have the kindness to understand. The Sith haven't returned since their initial questioning, but I shudder to think what would happen if these men were discovered. I'm just glad that I could hide them away."

_His actions weaken the enemy, but he also weakens himself. This is a useful ally, but one who will always be controlled by his shortages._ "Is there anything we can do to help you in return?" Kairi asked. "Supplies, information?"

"Could always use them...” Zelka shook his head. “Keep my secret, and I'll keep yours. Thank you again. Now, I'll be the one to show you the way out as soon as I'm finished."

They purchased a few medpacks and basic sundries before setting on their way again. The five hundred credits were down to about a hundred and seventy. The sun had set by the time they got back to the apartment. Stockpiling the medicine in one corner, they decided to extend their information gathering to the cantina.

Sure enough, the South End Cantina was packed—mostly an off-world clientele, too. Eventually, Kairi’s eyes settled on a table near the bar. A human with a thick accent and a red tunic was flipping over cards, making the other man sitting across from him very irritated and rattled.

"Paazak. Good way to kill time, but I'd never risk actual money with it.” Carth shrugged. "Not that good of a player."

Kairi kept her eyes on the table. "We’re going to need some way to purchase more supplies. If it’s all right with you -”

He seemed ready to argue but relented. "Just take forty, all right?” He passed her the stack. “I don't want to lose our shirts here."

She sat and watched the game, discerning the patterns. The game seemed simple enough—get to twenty without going over and use a side deck to add or subtract as needed. The first to win three hands won the match. The man in the red tunic smiled viciously as he overturned a card from his side deck, winning the match. Pounding the table in frustration, his opponent left quite a bit poorer.

She watched another opponent take the table, not watching for how they won or lost, but the cards themselves. There was a method to them, a pattern in the computerized dealing. There was also the matter of the dealer's side deck. He had ten cards, only four of which could be in play at a given point. Ten values were easy enough to remember.

By the time the second player left, throwing his deck in a nearby rubbish bin, Kairi was reasonably sure she had seen enough to get their supplies. Fishing the discarded deck from the trash, she sat down at the table to wait her turn.

Carth made the rounds. This place was like a million other sleazy cantinas through the galaxy, aside from the pretension. A Bith band and two Twi'lek servers were the only non-humans to be seen in the place. Tarsian nobility stuck out with jaded arrogance that exceeded any previous definition he may have had for it. Already, he'd been mistaken for a waiter and screamed at twice. There seemed to be quite the crowd in the card room. He figured Kairi must have lost the credits to the shark already.

He wasn’t sure what to make of her. The fact she seemed so unfamiliar with simple kindnesses, the way she could just shift into “all business” so quickly. She didn’t freeze in a firefight like he expected a civilian to do, and while he didn’t see much of her confrontation with those two enforcers, the fact one of them was already unconscious before he showed up was enough. He learned the hard way to listen to his gut instinct when it came to people. Something was very _wrong_ about her, and not just the apparent lack of memory.

Still, she did rip her shirt to bandage the old man without thinking, and she did give Zelka those credits to help pay the guy’s debt. Maybe she wasn’t so bad, and his gut instinct was just overreacting. And maybe Bastila had answers that would help clear some things up.

He sat down at an empty booth, trying to look like just another tipsy spacer and think up a plan to get past the elevator guard when he felt someone slide in next to him. 

"Well, hello stranger..." An icy looking young woman was staring at him the way a spider stared at an insect.

"Uh, hi..."

"I didn't realize how many off-worlders there were on Taris until we imposed the quarantine."

_Sith—and by the looks of her, officer to boot. Time to hide your cards, Onasi._ "Yeah, I got stranded here. Know of any way off-planet?"

She laughed. "Guess the old joke about spacers is true then? Never stick around longer than it takes to have a good roll in the bunk and pick up a handful of credits...Well, the first part is fine by me. Older men, especially with a bit of scoundrel...makes quite the combination."

_She's...she's hitting on me?_ Okay, now he was unsettled, but if she thought he was just a passing spacer, he wasn’t going to end up in a cell. "Well, I'd at least like to know who I'm talking to before I consider offers like that." Not like he would, but maybe she'd slip something. She had clearly had enough alcohol to loosen her up.

"Oh, so one who likes to pretend he's chivalrous," she purred and leaned in. "I'm Sarna. Junior Lieutenant Sarna Galdak."

"Carth." He hesitated to use his surname. For all he knew, it was on a wanted poster somewhere. He then felt a light tap on his shoulder.

"Hello, Carth," Kairi said. "Am I interrupting something?"

Sarna looked disappointed. "And here I thought you were alone."

"He's my employer," she said, sliding into the booth.

_Great save, Kairi._

Part out of relief, part playing along, he chuckled. "Nice timing. Did you hold your own at Paazak?"

"Better than that," said a man strutting out from the crowd and sliding into the booth, sandwiching them between him and Sarna on the other end. "She actually frustrated Niklos enough to leave the table! Six hundred credits worth!"

Carth whistled. "Nice one. You have got to tell me your strategy."

"Carth, is it? And Kairi, this is Yun Genda. He's also a Junior Lieutenant with the Occupation force. I'm surprised you're sitting with us." Sarna had a smile that could freeze a sun. "Most folks on Taris can't stand us Sith. Makes this a lonely job."

"Well you did just conquer the planet," Carth muttered under his breath. He felt the push of Kairi’s elbow into his ribs. Yeah. He probably shouldn’t have said that.

Good thing the cantina was too loud and Sarna too drunk to understand that. “What did you say?”

Carth cleaned his throat. "So, you're both Sith officers? And you're not in uniform?"

"We're off-duty," Yun said. "Besides, the owner of the cantina won't allow anyone in uniform to enter. Makes sense, I suppose...image and all that." He slid closer, putting his arm about Kairi's shoulders.

Carth wasn't blind. He saw her freeze. But Yun, being full of himself and the local hooch, didn't seem to notice. Carth gave her a silent look of _"play along until we can scratch gravel."_

Yun continued to discuss the "light handed" treatment the Sith were giving Taris. "We could have done a lot worse; bombed it into glass, put bio-toxins in the air, imposed a curfew or started in with raids and summary executions, but we haven't! The Taris authorities were quite compliant. Why can't the citizens be the same?"

Yun's hand slid down Kairi's arm, brushing lightly against her breast. She was pretending not to cringe. Sith or not, Carth was about to tell Yun to back off and keep his hands to himself. That's when he felt Sarna's hand on his thigh. These guys had all the subtlety of a bantha herd!

"You two certainly seem to be making the best of it," he said. He wanted to shove Sarna out of the booth entirely but decided distracting her with a neck rub would keep her from moving that hand up. "Picking up a couple of off-worlders in a cantina, enjoying the local ale..."

"Well, one learns the need to relax, blow off steam," Sarna said, blissfully relaxing into the neck rub. "Oh, you're good at this."

"Practice," Carth quipped _. If that hand goes any higher, Sarna, you’re going to end up with broken fingers, Sith or not._

Kairi, to her credit, seemed better at turning on the charm. "Well, you're just doing your job, right? I wouldn't hold it against you."

"There's quite a lot I'd like you to hold against me," Yun said. Yup, she had him hooked and reeled in. "Nice to meet someone with a positive attitude. Good to talk about it. Gets lonely on base." He looked up at the chronometer on the wall. "Sarna!"

"What?"

"We're going to be late for our shift unless we hurry. Come on!"

Sarna looked up at the chronometer and practically bolted from her seat. As Yun got up, he told Kairi, "Some of us junior officers are having a party tomorrow night starting at hour eighteen. North apartments, second floor, and unit eight—I'd really like it if you'd show up, Kairi. Perhaps we can talk some more?"

"Sounds good," she said.

Sarna brushed her hand on Carth's arm. "I look forward to seeing you, too. Bring those magic fingers of yours…"

The two officers left, and they breathed a huge sigh, slumping over almost in unison.

“Why do I feel like that was a closer call than the armed one we met this morning?” Kairi asked.

“No kidding!” Carth leaned back in his seat. “Was about to deck the guy for manhandling you like that!”

“I could...block that out. What about _you_? Sarna clearly saw the ring on your left hand and still kept pawing at you.” Kairi stopped herself, looking at his hand. “That _is_ a promise ring, right? I’m not...”

He knew it was an innocent question. There was no way she could know, right? “I’m married,” he said. “Well, I consider myself married. Long story.” He decided to steer back to safer spacelanes. "Six hundred credits playing Paazak?"

She hummed an affirmative. "I played him to a standstill with two-credit bets. Once he started losing patience, his game suffered."

"Well, this is going to go a long way to getting supplies!"

"Some of those winnings will have to go to new clothes. Unless you want to show up to the Sith party in what we're wearing," she said, pointing to her slashed jacket, and his worn looking one.

"I... you’re actually serious about showing up to that thing? No way, we’d be walking right into…" He couldn’t really articulate just what they’d be walking into, it just wasn’t good.

Kairi drummed her fingers on the table. “I... overstepped. I’m sorry.”

Once again, Carth’s gut instinct argued with itself. She was either crazy or she might be onto something. “Maybe back up a little. Explain what you’re thinking.”

“Remember what you said earlier, about stealing uniforms? A party with plenty of inebriated junior officers just off their shifts would be a good place to do it.”

Kriff. He had to admit it, but it was a good idea. Lazy guard, a few drunk officers. They really needed to get past the Lower City guard to find Bastila. “Yeah, if we can stand being handled like a piece of meat all night.”

“I don’t like it, either, but unless you have a better idea on how to obtain some uniforms…”

He rubbed his forehead—one hell of a headache was on its way. "I don’t, so you’ve got a point. Let’s just hope we don’t get eaten in the process.”

The next day was spent on gathering supplies. True to Carth's suspicions, the local "equipment emporium" was a clean, yet vaguely sleazy pawnshop for new and used weapons. The proprietor, a human woman, was apologizing about the Sith confiscating her heavier weapons and swoop bike parts, but her business was still brisk, thanks to off-world spacers being stuck on Taris. She also informed them that she welcomed new additions to the stock, no questions asked so long as the weapon was in good shape. Under other circumstances, Carth would have wanted to shut down a place like that. In their current situation, "no questions asked" was just the ticket.

After picking up ammo and a couple of light combat suits, the rest of the Pazaak winnings went to picking up sundries and a couple new sets of clothes. Not much was left over, but hopefully, they'd be off the planet soon enough.

"I don't know about this party. We shouldn't even go near it. It’s fraternizing with the enemy, Kairi. You may be a civilian, but even you'd know that. What happened to ‘follow my lead?’"

"It's the best break we've had so far. Do you have a better idea?" She adjusted her shirt to accentuate the plunging neckline and made another check of her appearance. "They're off duty, and Yun tells me they've enough of the local ale to anesthetize a rancor. Maybe they'll let something slip."

"Yeah, yeah, you’ve got a point." he said. He adjusted the red tunic that Kairi insisted he get for the party. “Hate to admit it, but it’s actually a good plan, even if it’s going to be the worst party of my life.”

“At least you have something for reference,” she said. Taking a step back, she opened her arms. "How do I look?"

Carth found it hard to say anything as he looked Kairi over. Her coal-black hair was loose, flowing over her shoulders, and her clothes accentuated her petite and otherwise boyish figure, bringing out the curves in her breasts and hips and emphasizing her sleek and toned muscles. The dark blue of the shirt contrasted against her tan skin. Her heart-shaped face and dark, deep-set eyes had just a little coloring on them—nothing overdone. "How do you look? You look...great." He tried to make light of it. "I'd invite you to a party anytime, Kairi."

Even though he hadn’t been entirely serious, she seemed a little confused by the compliment. Maybe she hadn’t heard that from anyone in a long time? Or maybe she had, and those circumstances had been…less than ideal. _Wherever you were before the Spire, it wasn’t anywhere good._

She took his hand in hers, looking up at him. "Thank you."

Looking back, it would be the first time he thought of her as beautiful.

The party was in full swing when they arrived. About fifteen young men and women were present. A trash bin was already full of empty bottles. The sound system spat out bass-heavy music heavily layered with electronic instruments, producing several conflicting rhythms. Over in a corner, two young Sith were openly making out, their uniforms disheveled and partially undone.

The drunken revelry of the atmosphere hit Kairi like a physical blow. She stumbled with the force of it. The meditative high of the dancers as they concentrated on the music and its heavy rhythms seemed to fill her bones. The couple in the corner sent out lust that crashed into her like the beat of the music. Her movements were swaying slightly, and she felt lightheaded.

Sarna pounced on Carth as he walked in the door, guiding him off to a far corner of the apartment. Kairi hoped he could handle that groping woman by himself. She leaned against the wall, wondering how he could be so unaffected by the craziness.

_I should have come up with some kind of plan or signal so that we could get one another out of trouble if we had to. Stupid of me not to think of that._

"Hey, you made it!" Yun smiled broadly as she walked in. Hooking an arm about her waist, he led her to a sofa. "Was starting to think you stood me up."

Her head was still pounding, but she had to say something, preferably something glib and flattering. "And what makes you think I'd stand up a man in uniform, especially one that invites me to a good party?"

Yun laughed heartily. "You can certainly pour it on, can't you?" He put an arm around her waist, and it took effort not to freeze as he led her about the party. She could tell he was already pleasantly drunk as he told bad jokes and leaned on her a bit as he introduced her to the others. Kairi made as little innocuous conversation as possible. Yun finished his tour and flopped in an overstuffed chair, pulling her into his lap, one arm wrapped about her to prevent her from either falling or escaping.

As people paired off, and started vanishing, it was getting much harder to think. Her whole body was tingling, and her head was spinning, even if she had nothing to drink at all since arriving. She took a breath and tried to think through the din.

Carth was pretending to laugh at a joke told by three of the other men. At least he seemed to be all right. Why wasn't he being affected like this? 

"Tell me, what exactly is such a fetching doll like you doing on such a miserable planet?"

She repeated the same answer she gave earlier. "The quarantine stranded me here."

"Yeah, but what brought you here in the first place?"

Kairi shuddered, the black hole of memory making her feel sick. She managed a plausible half-truth. "I'm a translator. Thought Taris might be a good place to find work.”

"Oh," He took a bottle of Tarisian ale from the table, uncapped it and took a swig. "Ever thought about enlisting with the Sith? With all this alien scum about, we need a few good linguists to help the interrogators."

"I don’t think I’m cut out for that kind of work," she said. Civilian or not, she was still on file with the Republic.

"Of course!" Yun took another swig from the bottle. It was incredibly uncomfortable sitting here. She started scanning for exits but couldn’t see a ready means of escape. "How could I have been so silly? A delicate flower like you...well, it would be my duty to shelter you from those kind of dregs, wouldn't it?"

His hand started to try and snake under her shirt, and it was all she could do not to push him away. If she could keep him talking, he wasn’t trying as hard to grope her. "So, why the quarantine?"

"Nothing much. Just...well I'm sure you know that we won a pretty wicked battle overhead. Damn Republic managed to get some escape pods down to the festering pits of the Lower and Under Cities. That's why we've walled off the place to tourists and off-worlders. It's not safe. If those Republic scum survived, we're more than happy to let them get shot by the gangs or eaten by the rakghouls. I certainly can't envy the blokes we send down to salvage the pods, though. Gangs and other scum likely beat them to anything of value." Yun inspected his empty bottle and poured her off his lap. "Wait here. I'm heading to the kitchen. You had any Tarisian ale yet? It's fantastic!" He was wobbling with intoxication, barely able to stand.

"Careful, Yun," warned Sarna, as she was trying to drag Carth onto the patio. "That stuff has quite the kick. We'll all be passed out on the floor after a couple more bottles."

"Who cares?" Yun countered. "We're not on duty tomorrow. Let's live a little!"

Walking out of the kitchen with a half-dozen more ales, he passed them around the room. Kairi took hers without comment. Raising his bottle high, Yun called everyone in the room to attention. His speech was quite impaired at this point.

"Everyone...Everyone...a toast to the Sith. Long may we reign."

"To the Sith!" She mouthed the words. Carth was already taking a swallow to stop himself from having to say anything.

Kairi opened the bottle gagged on the sharp sour-bitter taste of it. All but about two swallows went into poisoning a nearby Alderaanian fern.

The night went on. The ale flowed. Many of the revelers went back home. Others were sleeping off the effects of Tarisian ale, draped in chairs and couches. At least four others paired off and vanished. Yun barely let her out of his sight. His lust surged as the night went on, and he never let her leave his sight. Kairi was using a lot more willpower than she liked to keep her head.

_This isn’t right. It’s like I’ve been drugged…_

"Oh, come on, sweets. You didn't think I invited you here just for the ale, did you?" He pressed a panel and half-pulled them into the bedroom, startling a man and woman who'd already been taking advantage of the bed.

Yun's mood shifted abruptly, and that gave Kairi a bit more breathing room. At least she didn't have to fight him off for the moment. "C'mon, Darien. Have a bit of class and take it out of my bed."

The woman turned bright red, grabbed a sheet, and belatedly wrapped it around herself. The man let out a volley of curses. "Where's my uniform?"

"Just grab a shirt and trousers from my closet, and you can find it in the morning."

Acutely embarrassed, despite their highly inebriated state, the man and woman pulled on shirts from Yun's closet and staggered out of the room. Kairi glanced sideways as to not stare at them and bit her lip to stifle a laugh. They'd tossed their uniforms out a window, one of them landing on the balcony's rail, another getting ensnared in the branches of a tree on the walkway below.

Yun flopped down on the bed. "Come on over here."

Kairi shuddered. Her stomach churned with disgust. Her head pounded with panic that sounded too much like half-remembered warning klaxons. The way he was looking at her, the way he was touching her made her stomach knot. She crossed her arms as if cold. Carth was right. Even if this was the best way to get uniforms, Kairi had a bad feeling she was now in over her head. Yun pulled her down, causing her to tumble onto the bed. Pinning her with his larger body, he kissed her and pawed at her shirt.

Her head pounding with the music, her reflexes sluggish, his lust blasting at her like the music, Kairi was shaking, trying to block out the feel of his hands on her skin, the sour smell of the ale on his breath... She needed to get him off her – fight back…

But another part was very cold and analytical. _Your body is a tool. Endure this indignity. Let him have his way so that you can complete the mission you came for. Pretend to enjoy it. Use him as he would use you and then discard him just as readily._ Maybe she should have downed some of the ale after all; it might have made this easier or quieted the disgust she felt.

Yun, however, was oblivious. He stopped and pulled back. “Oh, love. You’re _shy_.”

Shy. Sure, let him go with that. It at least gave her a chance to regain some control. “How about we slow down a little...”

“Slow down? Eh...what do you have in mind?”

Okay, there was her opening. She was able to wriggle from his grasp and shift position, her front to his back, and started rubbing his shoulders. In this position, she was doing the touching, not the other way around.

"Sounds like an idea," he murmured, pulling off his shirt. "My back is a little stiff. All the damn training…"

“Just relax.” Frankly, she was telling it to herself as much as she was him. Outside, the loud music finished, the silence a welcome relief. One less assault on her senses to try and think through. She concentrated on rubbing Yun’s back, hoping that the silence, the late hour, and the ale would lull him to sleep.

Within a few minutes, she heard a loud snore out of him. She listened carefully. The others were asleep as well, and dawn was starting to break. Oh, thank the Force!

She broke off a branch and knocked the female officer's uniform to the walkway below and fished the male officer uniform from the balcony. Sneaking back into the living room, she saw most of the partygoers were sprawled out on the floor. Carth was sitting in a corner, eyes closed. She approached and reached for him, only to have his hand fly up and grab her wrist, twisting it away painfully.

“Carth, it’s me.”

Embarrassed, he let her go. “Ugh. That ale's worse than nerf piss. I thought you were Sarna for a second. She must be sleeping it off in the other room. There is nothing less attractive than a woman who doesn't know what 'too many' means. Where the hell were you?"

"Making sure Yun's also sleeping it off." She pulled open her pack, showing him the male officer's uniform. "Come on, we have to get out of here."

He got to his feet and they sneaked through the gauntlet of passed-out Sith and out the door. Fortunately, it was still early, and the woman's uniform was right where it had dropped. Kairi stuffed the clothing in her bag and they ducked back into the maze of streets.

"Two Sith uniforms. Nice. How did you? No, forget it. I don't think I want details.” Worried, he looked her over, noticing her disheveled clothing and smeared makeup. “He didn’t...” He dropped his voice, and she felt a jolt of cold, focused _rage._ “Did Yun _hurt_ you?”

She shook her head, and the rage washed away with relief. There was still worry and fear, but that was far less disturbing. It was probably good that Yun hadn’t done any lasting harm.

The coldly analytical voice seemed to whisper at her. _Carth does not guard his desires or his emotions. He desires to be a protector above all else. At the moment, you are what he’s decided is in greatest need of that protection. Use that._

_No._ She argued back to the voice. _I will not give him reason to regret the decision to save my life._ Yes, he had his own motives for wanting to look out for her. It still didn’t change the fact it felt...good, comforting to have someone who wanted her safe.

He picked up some discarded wire from a refuse bin and pulled out a small multitool from his jacket pocket to strip off the plastic coating, twisting the gold wire into a braid as they walked. “That’s good. Come on, we'd better fill up on caffa and put these to use before the owners miss them."

“Why the scrap wire?”

“I get the feeling you didn’t like being _mauled_ all night any more than I did. The wire gave me an idea.” He twisted the ends together with the multitool, forming a ring. “Here, put it on. Third finger, left hand. Until we get off-planet, pretend you’re my wife, okay? It’ll deter _some_ of the sharks.”

She could have refused, but she had no interest in repeating what happened with Yun. Not just the...physical aspects, either. Kairi remembered how she thought, how she was preparing herself to sleep with a man who disgusted her just to get the mission done. It scared her. She slid the makeshift ring onto her left hand. “Good idea.”

They wore the light armor under the uniforms. In Carth's case, it made the uniform a bit small, but in Kairi's case, the added bulk was needed to make the uniform fit perfectly on her tiny frame. Shouldering an equipment pack, they made their way back through The Maze, and to the elevator.

"Another patrol going to the Lower City?" asked the guard. "Best of luck down there. The damn gangs shoot anything that moves." He opened the elevator and waved them through.

The doors sealed, and the lift descended. They'd made it through the first obstacles, but they were still a long way from finding Bastila.


	4. The Lower City

**Chapter 2**

**The Lower City**

The faded beauty of the Upper City was striking indeed when contrasted with the vicious and honest ugliness of the Lower one. The instant they set foot off the elevator, Kairi and Carth saw everything in its brutal glory—sparking wires, layers of grime on all surfaces, and graffiti in a half-dozen Basic and alien dialects. Trash piled in heaps and in plastisteel barrels where transients gathered by the light of a smoky fire. The stench of bodily waste, bad alcohol, and things best unnamed hit them like a fist, causing them to gag until the shock wore off.

"Okay," Carth said. "We scratch this place off for shore leave."

The translucent fountain bottoms from the streets above allowed a bit of hazy sunlight and trickles of chemical-smelling water. Jury-rigged glowrods and gas-filled signs gave off their own faint light, as did the brightly burning barrels of refuse.

No sooner had they walked out of sight of the elevator did they find themselves surrounded. Six toughs and the narrow alleyway blocked any escape routes. The leader pulled a shock stick; crude, homemade weapons made of a metal stick and wire, charged by a battery pack in the hilt. Turning on the pack sent arcs of electricity coursing around the dull metal rod that comprised its "blade" like blue fire. They were designed for subduing a victim; the dead could only be robbed once.

Kairi spun around, drawing the vibroblade she took from the Upper City thug while Carth pulled one of his blasters.

"You're in the wrong place, Sith. You're in Vulkar territory now."

"So what do we gotta do?" Carth said. "Use the secret handshake?"

He laughed. "Nice try, but you've got to pay a toll to us. We could just take your weapons and your credits."

She seemed to sense the incoming attack a milisecond before he did. Kairi pushed aside the incoming hit and slashed back with the knife, leaving a large gash on the attacker’s arm, but a second one lunged in from the back with the shock stick. Her knife struck the metal pipe, and the cheaply-made blade shattered on impact, the jolt of current from the shock stick traveling through the remains of the blade. Carth's blood froze when he heard her scream of pain. The strike left her dazed, glass-eyed and unresisting.

An alien of some species Carth couldn't name and never would want to, big as a wall and ugly beyond description, yanked her away from Carth's reach. Kairi was still shaking off the effects of the stun, her movements groggy.

Carth backed up towards one of the flaming barrels. Giving it a hefty kick, its contents vomited all over the street, blocking half the Vulkars, and creating a thick smoke screen. He lay down cover fire he hoped would scatter the attackers, but couldn't see anything. At least the Vulkars couldn't either. His foot hit something. Slowly reaching down, he grabbed it—one of the Vulkars dropped a vibrosword.

He may not have been a melee expert, but he knew enough. Republic soldiers had to learn how to handle blades since the Echani invented the energy shield, and the Sith started to mass produce them. Shields could absorb blaster fire, but they couldn’t block a sword. Blaster in his left, sword in his right, he fought like a madman, slashing and blasting away at anything that stood between him and Kairi. As the hulk of an alien tried to flee with her, Carth charged and slammed the blade into its back. With a scream more animal than sentient, it fell, and Kairi narrowly avoided being pinned beneath its bulk as Carth wrenched her away.

Carth pulled them deeper into the Lower City, into a dark pit of what may have been a basement at one time, slicing into the lock so it sealed behind them. His skill was limited, but it was enough. Breathing heavily, he listened for anyone that had followed. Thankfully, they'd given the Vulkars the slip.

Kairi was staring straight ahead, wobbling unsteadily. She was dazed, but at least she was still conscious.

"Kairi?"

As if startled awake, she cried out and threw her arms around him, holding him like a lifeline. That shock stick must have reminded her of what happened on the _Spire_. Hell, he was just glad to get away with their skins.

After a few moments, she snapped out of it. Her breathing went back to normal, and her unsteadiness passed. She pulled away from him. "I'm...I'm sorry."

He tried to make light of it. "Hey, pretty lady with her arms around me? You're not going to find me objecting."

"I sensed him coming. There were too many, and he was too strong...and that awful shock."

"They set up a hell of an ambush." he said. "I don't like killing, but guys like that I'm not sorry to say that I took them down."

Kairi pulled off the pack, undoing the top of the Sith uniform. "The uniforms are like a big 'shoot here' sign," she explained. "They may have got us down here, but if we're going to contact the Beks, we had better not be seen in these."

 _Something’s still not right. She doesn’t think like a civilian. She’s too at ease with combat._ Carth thought. _As far as survival, I could have been stuck with a lot worse. Just wish I knew what I was dealing with._

Without much in the way of propriety, they stripped down to the combat suits they purchased with the last of their supply credits. Combat suits were lightly armored—less than Carth was used to, but they were better than nothing, and Kairi had needed something that wouldn't impede her movement. They were also common among mercenaries; being mistaken for a pair of small-time mercs would certainly draw less trouble than being mistaken for Sith officers.

Kairi saw the vibrosword and went to pick it up. Carth was about to tell her to leave it, but she picked it up and made an experimental swing with it.

"This is better constructed than that knife, but isn't balanced right." She spun and did a thrusting maneuver, then brought it up to parry. "There's too much weight in the blade. A better quality grip and a working vibration cell in the pommel would correct that somewhat."

 _She pulled the knife in that fight, not the blaster. The way she holds bladed weapons...she hasn’t had a lot of experience with a blaster, but she does have experience in melee combat. Then again, she was part of Bastila’s entourage, and I've never seen one of those saber-swingers holding a blaster. Service Corps? One of the Jedi’s wash-outs, maybe? But it would be listed on her file if that were the case..._ Carth scowled in frustration. While the question bothered him, he wasn't going to get any answers now, and they had other problems to deal with. "It's yours, if you want it," he said. "I'm not much for melee weapons, anyway."

She looked at him for the longest time, as if not sure she heard him correctly. "Thank you," she said, improvising a scabbard on her belt.

  
  


  
  


Uniforms in the pack, blasters and sword at the ready, lest they walk into another ambush, they started back into the Lower City. On what passed for the main "street" in this area, the gaudy and flickering lights of a cantina caught their attention. Outside, a bruiser of a Rodian was watching the people enter with a jaded and wary eye.

Two men—Twi'lek and a human in red and orange Vulkar colors—shook their fists at an Ithorian and a Twi'lek woman in tan. The Rodian stepped in the middle.

Kairi again translated for Carth.

_< <"You know this neutral ground. We all armed in this cantina. We all polite in this cantina. Javyar says keep your rivalry outside this door unless you want your gangs banned!">>_

_< <"You lucky you still have Javyar's to hide in, Beks. Otherwise, we kill you where you stand,_">> said the Twi'lek man.

 _< <"Stupid Vulkars,">>_ the woman retorted. << _"Talk and fight, but no honor or brains. Just wait until the swoop races. Then we'll see..." >>_

All four of them went inside. Carth motioned to Kairi. "It's as good a place as any to approach them, maybe find out about their plans and maybe ask for their help. Come on."

"Well, well...well..." the voice called over their shoulder. "Thought you could ditch us? Nice try."

Carth and Kairi saw them. The Vulkar leader from earlier had called in backup.

This time, though, they were ready. Carth's blasters were up and Kairi raised the blade at eye level, other hand out in defensive posture, feet spread and half-crouched for optimum balance, exposing as little as possible to the Vulkars at front and rear.

A rapid-fire volley from his blasters riddled the largest from forehead to mid-chest. He went down. Kairi's blade struck quickly, slicing through the leader's arm as he made a jab with the shock stick. The stick clattered uselessly to the ground, along with his right hand. He howled and reached for a blaster. Before he could, she ran him through. He went down in a bloodied heap when she pulled her sword from his gut.

Whirling around, she saw a Vulkar coming up behind Carth with a vibroknife, ready to strike. In a fluid sequence, she stepped to the left, pushing Carth aside while parrying the blade that had been coming for him. The Vulkar countered by trying to swipe for her ribs, but that left his chest exposed and her blade cut him from shoulder down across his sternum, killing him instantly.

The surviving pair, sensing that these strangers were more than they could handle with even numbers, ran back into the shadows.

Kairi looked at the sword, then to the fallen Vulkars. The sword was indeed a better fit to her hand than the blaster. It hadn't even been a thought as to how to strike with it. Her body remembered what her mind could not, even with this crude blade. She was acutely aware of the blood spattered on her combat suit, the smell of released bowels and filth around them. The strangeness of fighting with a blaster allowed some distance and detachment. This was more personal, more... _familiar_.

It was very good thing she had nothing to eat since the party last night.

Carth still had his blasters out, finger off the trigger, but still at a ready stance. He said nothing and did not have to. Mixed in with the small of death and waste, she swore she could smell his suspicion and fear like Tarisian ale mixed with grimy permacrete.

Maybe he _should_ be afraid of her.

_Carth, not now. If I had those answers, I would give them to you. Please, just a little while longer..._

He holstered the blasters after a long moment, muting his distrust for the time being. Grimly, they looted the remains of their would-be killers. The Rodian bouncer had seen the fracas but made no comment as he waved them through the door.

The cantina was certainly colorful. A band called the "Twisted Rancor Trio" was jazzing it up in one of the three back rooms, accompanied by three scantily-clad and sinewy Twi'lek dancing girls. A Rodian near the door was shouting filthy jokes to the amusement of his drinking buddies. In another back room was a flickering sign in Basic that read "Bounty Office." A relatively small-sized Hutt was reclining on a sofa, reading a datapad and discussing probable bounties.

A Twi'lek adolescent of Rutian blue sat in one of the booths that lined the room on either side of the Pazaak dealers, a handheld electronic gadget in pieces on the table. She pulled out a small probe from her jacket and started to tinker with the circuitry inside, nearly oblivious to anything else, including the two Vulkars in gaudy swoop suits that came up behind her.

_< <"Hey, little girl. We not finish our conversation with you!">>_

Pushing the gadget aside, she got up from her chair, standing akimbo. A vibroblade was strapped to her back, and a blaster was in her belt holster. "No. Conversation is OVER. I told you to back off, bug-eye. Your breath smells like bantha poo-doo."

 _< <"Little girl not too bright,">>_ said the second one. << _"Little girl should know better than to talk back to us. If little girl smart, she run home right now." >>_

"Little girl, huh?"

_< <"This no place for a girl on her own. Little girl could be talking to slavers—we hear that there big market for pretty Twi'lek girl...">>_

"Listen here, Chuba-face, back off!"

_< <"Little girl needs lesson in manners!">>_

She held up her hand. "One moment, boys." She looked over to a table in the shadows. "Zaalbar, a little help here?"

Emerging from a dark corner was a large, brown-furred Wookiee. << _"What is it now, Mission? I just started eating!" >>_

"C'mon, you can finish that later. Besides, you could use the workout. I need a little help tearing the legs off some bugs."

_< <"We no want trouble with Wookiee. We just got problem with you knowing your place, little girl!">>_

She shrugged, tossing a blue head tail over her shoulder. "Sorry, but if you've got a problem with me, you have a problem with Big Z and vice versa. So, unless you want to take on both of us, I suggest you greenies hop on outta here."

One of them looked almost ready to continue pressing the issue, but the other looked sourly at the Wookiee and back to his friend. _ <<"Little girl lucky she got big friend!">>_

They left to find other amusement. She looked up at Zaalbar. "Sorry, Big Z. Those guys had it in their heads that all a Twi'lek's good for is dancing on tables."

As they were about to turn back to their meal (well, Zaalbar’s meal. Mission was still working on that door slicer), a pair of unfamiliar humans, a man and a woman, wove their way through the crowd. The woman was short for a human, dark fur on her head. The man was average in height, maybe a little taller. Reddish-brown head fur. (Okay, humans called it “hair.”) Seemed to be a couple. Huh. Not in any gang colors she knew of. Combat suits, blasters, vibroblade on the woman; maybe they were bounty hunters. Zax always had something posted in his office.

The thick crowds meant that passing through was already tricky, but the woman couldn’t quite fit past Zaalbar and brushed too close.

_< <"Don't bother us.">>_

"Hey, Big Z. No need to get rude.” She apologized to the humans. "Sorry about that. Wookiees aren't much for conversation—especially with people they don't know. Say, I don't recognize you, and I know just about everyone in the Lower City. You new here? Grounded by the quarantine?"

“Yes, as a matter of fact we are,” the woman said. "I’m Kairi, and this is Carth. You prefer to speak Basic and not Huttese?"

Mission shrugged. "Grew up here. I can speak Huttese, sure, but I’m more used to Basic."

"You showed a lot of guts, kid." Carth said. "Telling those guys to back off. You got a name?"

"My name's Mission Vao," she said. "The big guy's my best friend Zaalbar. I'd offer to give you a tour, but with Brejik and his Vulkars shooting everything in sight, it's not safe. If there's anything else you need, though...Well, don't just stand there, have a seat!"

Zaalbar sat at the edge of the booth, his hairy bulk too big for the chairs. He ate his stew in silence and let Mission do the talking.

"How did a Wookiee and a Twi'lek become best friends?" Kairi asked.

"We kinda fell in together," Mission explained. "I took care of myself before he came along, but there's safety in numbers. Everyone in the Lower City likes to push you around if you're on your own."

"So we noticed," said Carth. "Whole planet seems to be like that. Still, you do seem like an odd pair."

"With Zaalbar, it’s a good match. We look out for each other—my street smarts and his muscle. We're a great team." Her sunny smile broadened. "Since you’re new down here, I’ll give you the scoop on anything going on in this sector. Lived here almost my whole life and have heard it all!"

"We were told to find the Hidden Beks," Carth said. "Can you help us?"

"Big Z and I hang out at the Bek base sometimes. The cantina is right on the border of the gangs’ territory. You thinking of signing up? They could use the help. Gadon's a great guy. The Beks know he’s a good leader, too." She scowled. "Which is why that traitor Brejik and the Vulkars make me so mad! Gadon considered that ungrateful space-slug his adoptive son!”

“What happened?” Kairi asked.

“When Gadon had his accident and went blind, you could tell Brejik smelled an opportunity. Brejik had some plans for the gang that Gadon didn’t agree with. Gadon got ocular implants and refused to step down. He told Brejik to wait a few years, probably thinking it would cool him off.”

"I don't imagine that made him happy," Kairi said.

"Worse. He jumps ship to the Vulkars and takes over there. This gang war is his idea. Shooting and looting anything that moves; it's as if he and the Vulkars just went nuts."

"'We've...we've heard that Gadon's no friend of the Sith," Carth ventured. "Anything to that rumor?"

"Aside from it's one of the biggest understatements I've ever heard," Mission replied. "I may not know a whole lot about what's going on outside of Taris, but I've heard enough. Don't imagine you're fans of them, either, considering the quarantine."

“We've also heard of a man named Davik. He's a crime lord here, right?" Kairi asked.

"A crime lord? The man's a high roller with the Exchange and practically owns Taris! Of course, the latest news is that he's got himself a ship for his smuggling that he claims is fast enough to break the Sith blockade—the _Ebon Hawk_ , it's called."

"Where would Davik keep a ship like that?" Carth asked. "Do you know?"

"Locked up tight on his estate, I'd imagine," Mission said with a shrug. “No one gets onto his estate unless they're working for him. As for his security...Well, he's just hired on Nord, and that guy's killed more people than the Iridian plague! I've seen him kill people just for trying to start a conversation." Mission took another sip of her juice. “The Mandalorian he's got on payroll is friendlier."

Carth let out a low whistle. "Mandalorian, you say?"

"Yup. Canderous and I have a deal. He leaves me alone, and I leave him alone. He’s hard to miss; human, really big. Gray hair, lots of scars, and carries this massive cannon. You'll probably run into him sooner or later in this neighborhood..."

Unknown to them, they were being watched, and had been since their descent into the Lower City. He pretended to nonchalantly drink his ale and stare at nothing, but he was not a man who let his caution or observation slip, not even for a second. He had been a warrior far too long for such foolishness.

Of course, Mission was being her usual sunny self. He wouldn’t admit it, but he liked her. She didn’t make an effort to hide her brains, and she could hold her own as far as a fight. Still too young and too trusting. It would probably get her in trouble eventually, but she was tougher and more cunning than she looked.

The newcomers weren't Sith. He could tell that much. They may have ducked past that lazy guard with stolen uniforms, but Sith weren't smart enough to run or improvise during combat. Not the average trooper, anyway. He tried to decide if they were mercenaries...perhaps the woman was. Even if she had been taken down by the shock stick earlier, she made up for it in the following battle. She was also too good with a vibroblade, and that sent up an alert in his mind.

Perhaps she was Echani, one of the lower castes or a half-breed. It was a reasonable guess; small, dark woman who preferred close combat and light, sturdy weapons. The higher castes had pale skin and white hair to go with their equally colorless poetry about battle, and they tried to keep their combat knowledge to themselves. Still, it occasionally leaked down to a member of the darker-complected lower castes, and half-breeds were so disdained they learned to fight anyway. Something about her fighting style seemed a bit too direct to be Echani, though. He would have to watch her more to learn anything further.

The man she traveled with was obviously Republic military – career from the looks of him—pretending to be a mercenary. With his heavily-modified blasters and talent for making use of his surroundings, he would have passed to a casual observer.

The iron-eyed man at the table was no casual observer. He decided he would watch them, see if they were a threat...or maybe a new pair of allies.

The sound of his comlink interrupted him from his thoughts. He pressed the button to activate it. "Yeah, what do you want?"

"Just a simple shake-down. Track eight in this sector."

Inwardly, he groaned. He wasn't getting paid enough for this garbage. Hell, there weren't enough credits in the galaxy to make this drudgery on a backwater planet worth it. Still, employment was employment...

"On my way." Shouldering his custom-made blaster cannon, he finished his ale, paid the droid waiter, and walked back out of the cantina.

  
  


  
  


The directions Mission gave them led down a series of streets little more than wide alleys. By the shielded door, a human woman in Bek tans stood by the door, obviously a sentry.

"You can't just walk in here!" she blocked the door with one arm, the other going to her holster. A promising sign was that she wasn't drawing it...yet. "How do I know you aren't from the Vulkars or worse, trying to kill Gadon?"

"Maybe we could be allies against those enemies," Kairi offered.

Uncertainty warred on the woman's face. "I suppose you might. I heard about a couple of newcomers taking out a half-dozen of those Vulkars, and you fit the description. Besides, there's not much you could do against Gadon in his own base." She hit the door controls. "All right, go on in."

The Bek base was carved out of what might have been the ruins of an office building before the Upper City was landed atop it. The gang had the same racial composition as the rest of the Lower City; mostly humans and Twi'leks with the odd Duros or Ithorian. Most were cautious, all were armed.

The guard escorted them to a makeshift alcove of storage crates that walled off a portion of the main room. A middle-aged human man and a Twi'lek woman were standing over a desk, discussing some matter when the guard cleared her throat.

"Gadon, two outsiders. They're interested in signing up, it sounds like."

The woman looked up, snapping at the guard. "Naja, I can't believe you let two strangers just walk in! They could be bounty hunters!"

Gadon held out his hand. "Calm down, Zaerdra. No one's going to try anything here in our own base. It would be a suicide mission."

The Twi'lek woman glowered at Kairi and Carth, hostility radiating from her like heat from a sun. "You're too trusting. Brejik and his Vulkars want you dead. Davik’s no fan of the Beks, either. Then there’s the Sith deciding to march around like they own the planet. Any stranger is a potential threat, and it's my job to make sure you're safe."

"So we attack any stranger that comes along on sight? How does this make us any better than Vulkars? I'll never let it come to that. Let them speak."

"As you wish." Zaerdra said, taking a step back so they could address Gadon. "But try anything, and I'll have you both killed before you can say 'Vulkar spy!'"

"I apologize. Since my accident, Zaerdra's been a little overzealous in her security duties. Can't blame her, though." He looked pointedly in her direction. "She seems to forget that I still can take care of myself." His eyes had been replaced by polished, mirror-like implants, an outmoded technology that allowed the user to see a shape in front of him, but not much past that. "So, you're here. Why?"

"We rescued a prisoner from a Sith interrogation," Kairi said. "He told us to seek you out."

"We're looking for information about the escape pods that crashed in the Undercity," Carth elaborated. "Someone we know may have been on one of those pods."

Gadon looked them over. "Yes. Ixgil’s friend mentioned some humans...I’ll hazard a guess you’re Republic yourselves or at least mercs friendly to the cause."

"They still could be spies, Gadon," Zaerdra warned. "Vulkar, Sith...maybe even Davik."

"If the Sith thought we knew anything, they'd have a whole battalion kicking down our doors, and Davik would just send in his thugs. No, these two have their own agenda."

"We heard about your problems with the Sith," Carth said, hoping that assuaged the angry woman. "Believe me, we've got our problems with them, too."

Gadon banged his fist against the table in frustration. "They invade, declare martial law, and quarantine the planet? Then they have the gall to strut around down here and hassle anyone they like? Damn well bet I've a problem with that. The gangs could unite against them like we did against the Mandalorians. Guerrilla tactics, urban warfare. Enough casualties might make this planet too costly to control."

"Don't fool yourself." Carth shook his head. "I've seen what they can do. They’d counterattack with something much more grand and deadly."

"I hope they won't," Gadon said gravely. "I've tried to explain this to Brejik, that the Sith are the real enemy here. He says he wants to unite the Lower City. Instead, he insists on dividing our energy with this foolish gang war and having his Vulkar thugs shoot everyone in sight."

“We’re no friends to either,” Kairi said. “We could use whatever help you can give us, and trade our help in return.”

Gadon smiled. "What I know can't do harm to the Beks, but it certainly could make life difficult for the Vulkars. Might even hurt the Sith. Either way, it's okay in my book.” He whispered something to Zaerdra, and she pulled a stack of holo-pics from a nearby drawer. Carth and Kairi looked them over as Gadon explained.

“The Vulkars found and stripped those pods already. You won't find anything of value left. They took a hostage, too—a female Republic officer named Bastila Shan. Now, Beks don't get involved in the slave trade, but the Vulkars don't have a problem with it."

Kairi and Carth looked at each other, realizing what their meant. The situation just became that much more difficult. Carth pulled one of the pictures from the stack and passed it to her, grainy security drone footage of a woman tied up and being herded between four Vulkar scavengers.

Kairi’s eyes fixed on the woman’s image. The blurry, low resolution holo made discerning any of her facial features difficult. Still, Kairi felt a chill when she recognized Bastila’s long, thin face and dancer’s build. This was her employer and handler, she knew that. There was...something else, however. Something she couldn’t quite put together. Bastila was far more than just her employer. There was a history, a closeness…

_A flash of pain, and the feeling of cold darkness closing in...A spark, being kept lit only by Bastila’s effort..._

She felt like something gave her a hard push, and grasped the edge of Gadon’s desk to regain balance. For a picosecond, it all fell into place; she _**knew**_ who Bastila was, with all the answers about her past that her conscious mind was still frustratingly unable to access. And just as she knew all of this, the link was lost and the knowledge vanished.

Gadon didn’t seem to notice at all. "Normally, the Vulkars would sell her to Davik or some Hutt, but a Republic officer isn't an ordinary catch."

"Well, if they think Bastila's a Republic officer, that could work to our advantage," Carth muttered to himself. Louder, he added. "She might even figure out an escape on her own."

"Unfortunately, I know Brejik," Gadon said. "He won't trust his men around her. No, chances are that she's hidden away until the swoop race in a week."

"Swoop race?" Kairi asked.

"He's offered her up as the Vulkar share of the prize in the season opener. She's become a pawn on Brejik's petty scheme to take over the Lower City. By offering such a valuable prize to the winner, he hopes to attract some of the smaller gangs to his banner and finally..." Gadon dropped his voice. "Finally destroy anyone who stands against him, starting with us."

"Well, we can't fight all the gangs," Carth asked. "So, how would we go about rescuing her?"

"The only way I can think of?" Gadon shrugged. "Win that race."

"Oh, you have to be kidding." Carth's jaw almost hit the floor.

"We've got a lot to lose here...and much to gain," Gadon said. "As off-worlders, you two might just be the side deck I need here. The Vulkars stole a prototype swoop accelerator from us and stashed it at their sector base. With that installed, it can beat any swoop on the tracks. If you can break into their base and steal it back, I'll sponsor you as a rider for the Beks. You win the race; you win your friend's freedom."

"Sounds dicey to me," Carth grumbled.

“Do we _have_ any better options?” Kairi asked.

Carth pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not at the moment. At least Bastila’s still alive. Maybe we can free her if we get into that base.”

Gadon folded his arms. “I know Brejik. He wouldn’t keep her at the same place he keeps the swoop engine. Too risky. Unfortunately, I don’t know where he’s hiding her. Right now, the only option I can give you is that race.”

“Assuming we go for this plan,” Kairi said. “It isn’t like we can go in through the front door.”

"You'd be right. Fortunately, I know someone who can probably sneak you in the back way—Mission Vao."

"Mission?" Zaerdra crossed her arms. "Gadon, she's just a kid. You can't be serious!"

"Twi'lek girl...travels with a Wookiee?” Kairi asked. “I think we met her already."

"With a smart mouth and fast blaster," Gadon finished. "Yes. Two of them are inseparable. She knows every back alley, crawlspace, and secret passage in the Lower City and the Undercity sewers. If anyone can sneak you inside, it's her."

"She's the one who directed us here."

"Figures," Gadon said. "Now, if you want to meet up with her, she's usually exploring. Try starting in the Undercity. She's friends with the Outcasts down there."

"I also hear that you collect Sith uniforms," Kairi said, taking off her pack. Inside were the Sith uniforms she stole from the party.

Gadon grinned. "I won't ask questions, and I have just the thing to trade for those. They'll certainly send down a pair of mercenaries if they have proper papers. My men got into a fight with some of their hired hands. Those hired hands won’t be needing papers anymore."

  
  


  
  


After trading their Sith uniforms to Gadon for a set of official tracker papers, they were off again, heading for the Undercity elevator at the far edge of this sector. It was a long walk to the elevator, through debris-strewn streets. They managed to scare off at least one Vulkar patrol before any blood got shed, thankfully. Searches of the rubble yielded a few useful things—a couple power cells for Carth's blaster with most of the charge intact, the odd credit chip, and a datapad with a map of this sector.

Carth was taking point and doing his best not to think about his mysterious charge. He prided himself on a good gut instinct, being able to read intentions from strangers and friends alike. It wasn’t going to make him win at the Pazaak table, but it did help him figure out within minutes if someone was telling the truth or feeling him a load of bantha pile. Of course, there was a nasty paradox in play when it came to his gut instinct; the better Carth knew someone, the harder they were to read. Strangers were easy. The less they knew, the less they concealed their tells. Friends and loves ones? The better they knew him, the more they could mask. And the one time when he couldn’t read someone he thought he knew…

Carth kicked a piece of debris out of their way. Not a good path to go down.

Kairi was a frustrating puzzle. His instincts were all but screaming several contradictory things at once when it came to her, and he couldn’t tell which scream was right. By now, he was sure that her file had to be a fabrication. He had done enough work with Republic Intelligence to know that a detailed fake would be found and dismantled faster than a merely “good” fake that built in enough plausible deniability. He had read sparse files before; sometimes it meant the person was from a non-Republic world and there wasn’t much to go on. Sometimes, it meant that person had a better record at one point, but war had a way of destroying archives and paper trails. The third reason was that the person had something to hide.

When she fought with a blaster, he might be able to buy that she was just some civilian hired on by the Jedi and caught up in the chaos. Once that vibrosword was in her hand, though...even a civilian with some training wouldn’t be that comfortable in life or death melee combat. He was also sure he had seen that opening stance she used somewhere else, but he couldn’t place where.

The story about her memory loss stretched the limits of credibility; amnesia was more common to bad holodramas than reality. And yet...his gut was _absolutely sure_ she wasn’t lying about it. He had seen that panic on her face, and there were moments where her fear was almost a physical jolt.

_That’s not the only physical jolt you’re feeling..._

_Shut up._

He saved her life, she saved his, and she seemed...good enough. He also hated to admit it, but her ideas were turning out to be better than his. It gave them them an actual, solid lead on Bastila being alive.

She was sticking close, letting him take point, vibroblade still at the ready in her hand. Every few steps, she seemed to be thinking of saying something, only to shake her head and continue. After the fifth time in the space of a kilometer, Carth got tired of it.

He plastered on the smile he used for dealing with visiting dignitaries and nosy neighbors, opening his arms. "I know that look, beautiful. Go on. Ask away."

She looked at him strangely for a moment, then looked away. Was she blushing? Nah, it had to be a trick of the lighting. “I know how asking last time went. What would your _real_ wife think?”

“How about I ask the questions this time?” Carth pushed a frayed wire aside. "Watch it."

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know,” she argued back. “So there isn’t any use in being angry.”

“If I was angry, you’d know it, let me assure you there.” He closed in, lightly grasping her arm, and quickly checking around for anyone who might be listening. He dropped his voice. “Look, there’s a lot that’s not adding up. I’ve been going over that battle on the _Spire_ over and over in my head. We didn’t even choose that battle, it got...forced on us. We lost that ship and a lot of good people, and over what, the hope that some Jedi’s power would save us?” He let go of her arm. “Why would a Jedi need a linguist? A standard protocol droid is programmed with at least a thousand languages and dialects, and their vocorder can replicate languages that a human can’t.”

Kairi scowled. “An organic linguist would still have to program languages into a droid. With ancient or obscure dialects, a protocol droid would be useless. Since I’ve been able to translate every spoken language we’ve heard so far – including the Wookiee’s language – I have to assume the file isn’t lying and that’s why I was brought on board. Didn’t Bastila inform the officers of the Jedi’s mission?”

“The Jedi requested numerous things. Hell, they practically took over the ship as far as I could tell, but they lived down to their reputation for being secretive. Whatever they were up to? They didn’t let us lower life forms in the soldier ranks know much. You must have been brought on at the last minute, or I would have seen your papers earlier. Isn't it strange that a civilian translator, added to the roster at the last minute, just happens to survive the attack? What are you, really? Senate Intelligence? Service Corps? Wouldn’t put it past the Jedi...” He shook his head.

“I’m sorry that I can’t tell you more about me. You have all these -” She almost said “suspicions,” but opted for diplomacy. “Questions about me. If I could answer them, I would. I know it doesn’t make you feel any better, though.”

"Look," he assured her. "I'm probably wrong, and this might be nothing, I know. Still, I learned not to take things at face value, and I hate to be surprised. I will completely understand if you _can’t_ talk about what you really are. Just don’t go feeding me a load of bantha pile.”

"You realize we're on the same side, right?" she said. "And I'm not lying to you—I really don't know anything that could -" She slumped against the closest wall. It wasn’t a lie to say she remembered nothing. It wasn’t the full truth, either. “I...I had a feeling, for a moment back there. I recognized Bastila in those holos. It was like everything snapped into place and I knew who I was, what I was, and that Bastila had a hand in what I am now. And just as I remembered it all, it was gone again. I...I know she’ll have answers. We’re following the only good lead we’ve had so far. That’s what I know.”

“If that’s the truth, then I the sooner we find Bastila, the better off we’ll all be.” He sighed and put a hand on her shoulder. "Sorry, Kairi. It doesn't have anything to do with you, personally. I just don't trust anyone...I can't afford to. This is the closest we have to a plan. Let’s just hope it pans out.”

“Agreed.”

  
  


Passing Track Eight, they saw a smarmy looking enforcer fold his arms while addressing two Vulkars.

"You Vulkars haven't been making your payments. What, you think that since you're in some gang that you don't have to pay your dues?"

_< <"I don't see Davik doing anything but sitting in his palace. Let's see the big shot crime lord take it from us.">>_

The enforcer shook his head and laughed. "All right, boys, have it your way." Whistling sharply, he nodded towards the shadows.

Emerging from them was a tank of a man—nearly two meters tall, broad-shouldered and barrel-chested. In his massive arms, he carried a blaster cannon almost as large as Kairi was tall, a Taung-skull tattoo prominently visible on his left bicep. His face boasted several scars and his iron-colored hair was tightly cropped.

"Mission wasn't kidding!" Carth said. "I've never seen ANYONE that fit the textbook definition of 'Mandalorian' like he does."

The Vulkar with the loud mouth suddenly became contrite. << _"Oh, hey, Canderous...Didn't know you were working for Davik.. We don't want trouble with a Mando. We were just...goofing around. Here's Davik's cut." >>_

The enforcer snatched the credits. "Pleasure doing business with you boys. Now, get out of here."

The Vulkars wisely fled the scene. The large man they called "Canderous" put his blaster back in its sling. "Too bad, I was looking forward to cracking their heads"

"Maybe next time," the enforcer said. "In the meantime, I need to turn this in. I'll call you the next time someone else needs persuasion."

The enforcer vanished into the twisted maze, leaving Canderous leaning against the wall. “I see you two. Either move along or come over to talk, but don’t just stand and stare.”

Carth kept his distance, but Kairi decided to risk meeting him.

He cracked open an eye that was the same gray as his hair. "Those Vulkars are dumber than a Coruscant granite-slug. They actually think that being part of that pathetic little gang of theirs makes them important. Gadon keeps the Beks in line, but Brejik's getting delusions of grandeur." He made a small noise of contempt. "If Davik's smart, he'll slap that punk back down."

Kairi cocked her head, looking up at him. "Who are you?"

"If you have to ask, you’re obviously not from here. Just one warning: I'm someone you don't want to get on the bad side of," Canderous admitted. He dropped his voice, glancing over at Carth before back at her. “ _Jorhaa’ir Mando’a?”_

She nodded. “ _Elek. Birov lalate._ ”

“ _Mar’e.”_ He switched back to Basic. _“_ Haven’t met anyone else who does on this planet. I’ve missed _proper_ conversation.”

“Something tells me you miss a good conversation, regardless of language.”

“You’re not wrong. This place rots your brain, and a couple off-worlders might be just the thing I need...” He looked back at Carth, who was still eyeing him warily, and shook his head. “Just what are you and your...man doing here?”

“The Sith hire mercenaries to scout the Undercity, looking for Republic escape pods.” It wasn’t a lie; they did have the tracking papers. They just weren’t admitting that the papers were “unconventionally” obtained.

“More of those, huh? I hope they’re paying you a fortune, _aruetii_. I know how bad it is down there.” Checking his chronometer, he grumbled something under his breath. "If you survive, look me up. I haven't got time to stick around. Davik's got more busy work for me."

Canderous adjusted his gun sling and followed the same path the enforcer had used earlier.

"Last time I was that close to a Mandalorian," Carth said. "I had to put a blaster shot between his eyes. This Canderous fellow is on the friendly side."

Kairi said, "This is hell for him."

Carth raised his eyebrows in surprise. "He's a well-paid thug on the payroll of the planet’s biggest crime lord, and you feel sorry for him?"

"He's lonely and bored. He’d rather be anywhere else. Couldn't you tell?"

"No, no. I couldn't."

Kairi frowned. Maybe it was best to drop that subject. "Let's see if these papers do the trick."

Canderous hadn't gone too far, just far enough to let them think he had gone. So, they were heading for the Undercity? Well, they were insane or foolish—not worth his time either way. _Jhetat._ That was too bad, because they seemed so promising. Shaking his head, he headed off towards his parked speeder and Davik's estate. Maybe the boss had some interesting work for a change. More likely, he didn't.

  
  


The acid test came at the end of the track. A uniformed Sith guard took the papers and read them over. "Figures that the commander would finally send some mercs down there and stop wasting troops. We've lost three patrols already to the rakghouls. Also, we've heard of some Gammoreans taking up residence down there." He grumbled more to himself than anything as he searched their papers. "Why we didn't blast this planet from the sky rather than trying to occupy it, I have no idea..."

Carth and Kairi looked at each other. Hopefully, they would at least have a good reason to be risking their necks in the lowest pit of this "wonderful" planet.

The guard handed the papers back to them. "Pardon me if I don't wish you luck."


	5. The Undercity

**Chapter 3**

**The Under City**

The doors opened and two young humans dressed in rags blocked the way out. "You there, up-world! This is our village – our elevator. Anyone using it has to pay the toll!"

"I can't believe this planet." Carth grumbled. "Even the beggars here are trying to shake us down."

Just as Kairi and Carth were reaching for their weapons, hoping that the beggar wouldn't try anything dumb, a woman ran up. "You two again. Get out of here! Out!"

The pair scurried off, vanishing into the village. The woman watched them leave, shaking her head. "I'm sorry about that. Those two...they give us all a bad name. We aren't all like that, you know. Most of us are good people."

"I'm sure you are, miss. Too bad your little 'welcoming committee' is there to give off a bad first impression," Carth said. "The name's Carth, and her name is Kairi."

She extended her hand. "I'm Shaleena...you...you're from the up-world?"

"Off-planet, actually," Kairi said. "Have there been many up-worlders that come here?"

Shaleena nodded. "Many more these days. This is where the up-world lawmakers exile people if they have committed a crime. It's either that or people who were born here—like me. I have never seen the surface. Is it truly so beautiful?"

"Well, it's nothing special," Carth said. "Taris is an ugly planet.” Kairi gave him a sharp glare and looked like she was about to scold him for being so blunt, but Shaleena spoke first.

"It may not be special to you, but I can only dream about it...the sun and the sky. It sounds so wonderful, but why should I talk of it? The Undercity is all I will ever know." She hung her head. "Gendar tells me I should work to help the village and spend less time listening to Rukil's stories—maybe he's right."

"Gendar?" asked Kairi. "Who is he? And who's Rukil?"

Shaleena smiled. "Gendar is leader of our village, and Rukil...well, he is just an old man. He's over a hundred years old. Rukil-Wrinkle-Skin, the children call him. Rukil likes to tell stories about the surface, and the Promised Land. He teaches us about our history, he says. Most pay him no heed, aside from Malya who was studying with him, but he is a kind man, and listening to him makes things less...sad for me."

"History is never a bad thing to learn. What's this 'Promised Land?'" asked Kairi.

"Just an old story, it makes the little children smile. Rukil believes it, though. Sometimes, I think I can believe in it myself until I look around and see the ugly truth." Shaleena looked up as if hoping to see any kind of glimpse of the surface. "Rukil would be glad to tell you the stories if you ask."

Carth brought the conversation back to something a little more relevant to their current situation. "Do you or Rukil know anything about some escape pods that crashed down here?"

"No. Maybe Gendar does, but I don't. I will take you to him, if you like."

Kairi and Carth nodded, and Shaleena motioned for them to follow.

The Undercity was indeed a dismal place – oppressive darkness and lack of sunlight, just the hazy orange of jury-rigged industrial lamps. Still, there were signs of care that the Lower City lacked. Trash had been removed, and scrap had been used to fashion lampposts. Tents were fashioned of the same crazy-quilt manner, incorporating anything from starship scrap to worn blankets and disintegrating hides. What had at first seemed like random huts and scrap was soon recognized as having organization, grouped around communal resources like wells and power generators that provided heat and light in the cold and sunless place. There was little waste, as anything that could be used or repaired was pressed to service. There were even Outcasts set to work cleaning the walkways. Life was harsh here, but the hard work of the citizens made it better than it could have been.

Gendar's hut was just like any other hovel in the village, distinguished only by its central location. He was sitting on the floor with three others, finishing a discussion regarding supplies when Shaleena escorted them in.

"Gendar, these are up-worlders. I told them that you might be able to help."

Gendar rubbed his bearded chin. "I find it strange that so many up-worlders have come through here recently, though none have stopped to ask us for anything before. Why have you come?"

Kairi stepped forward. "My name is Kairi, and he is Carth. We've heard about some escape pods that crashed down here. We have reason to believe that our friend might have been on one of those pods."

"Ah, yes, those." Gendar said with a nod. "You aren't the only ones interested—swoop gangs, mercenaries, armored soldiers... Even the few braver members of our community have ventured out but found no survivors. If your friend was on those pods and survived, she has already been found by one of those factions.”

"Well, that confirms it," Carth said. "Tell me, Gendar, we were also told to look out for a Twi'lek girl—Mission Vao."

"Ah, yes, Mission. She and Zaalbar often pass through here, trading or sending us news from above. They passed by only a few hours ago. Quite a brave one, and one of the few who dare to leave the village gates."

"The rakghouls are real, then?" Kairi asked. "We spoke with a doctor in Upper Taris who was working on a cure."

"So Zelka still lives? Good enough news, I suppose. Yes, they are real. Unfortunately, we know of no cure—the beasts prey on this village, and anyone infected must be locked away or killed because they will soon become monsters themselves."

"Is this why you live in this village? Protection?" Kairi asked.

"That, and to share what little we have. Outcasts are those who were shunned by the surface for our crimes real or imagined. Even our descendants are doomed to this fate. My grandfather was the first leader of this village, banished here by the Great War. When he passed on, my father took leadership, and after he died, I became leader."

"Great War?"

Gendar shook his head. "No one will speak of it, save Rukil. It isn't a subject we discuss. Just know that many of us have been here for generations. Few come here other than those the Upper City rulers have banished."

"No offense," Carth said. "But I can see why." As soon as he said it, Carth knew he was on the receiving end of his second _“I can’t believe you said that”_ glare from Kairi in the space of an hour.

Gendar held up his hand. "If you are searching for Mission, she was here only a few hours ago, but I would advise you to travel armed. Once you leave this sanctuary, you'll be alone against the rakghouls...and worse."

"Thank you," said Kairi, pulling Carth’s arm before he could say anything else. "We will return soon."

They passed through the village on the way to the main gate, enduring the halted conversations and stares of the natives. Kairi stopped to talk with some Outcast women about what they had seen and heard over the last few days. Not wanting to make any other comments that could get them in trouble, Carth stayed back and kept his mouth shut, thinking about what was outside the gate. None of this sounded promising.

An old man's voice reached his ears, barely more than a whisper, but perfectly clear. "Greetings, up-worlder. Come inside, I have many answers to your questions, and you may hold the answers to a few of mine."

Carth would never know what prompted him to turn away from Kairi and follow the voice. Pushing aside a tattered covering, he walked into a hovel partially dug out from the surface. A low fire and two lanterns provided enough light to see by, and the only occupant was an ancient-looking man whose eyes and gait suggested someone much younger than his wizened face.

"You," she said with a whisper. "Yes, the male up-worlder that I have heard so much of. Is it the time of destiny, then? Can it really be time for our salvation...or is this yet another false hope."

_Careful, this guy's just nuts enough to be dangerous._ Carth thought. Still, something about the old man's eyes seemed to pull him closer. "Who are you?"

"I'm called Rukil...Rukil the Mad, Rukil the Elder, or Rukil Wrinkle-Skin. Please speak—what fate are you to bring to us?"

"Fate?" He suddenly felt very unsteady, afraid to move.

"You are uncertain, perplexed...and so much has been hidden from you.” Rukil afforded him a gentle smile. “Ah, but I become confused myself sometimes, even after a hundred years of life. I wonder if you would be the one to aid me, though. Yes...yes...I think I see it now. You and the woman, the ones I've long waited for…"

"Carth?" Kairi was calling for him.

"Down here."

Kairi pushed aside the rough curtain and walked down the set of crude stairs. Rukil's eyes lit up. "Yes! I do see you...will you doom us or save us, I wonder?"

Kairi looked at Carth, but he had no answers to give her.

"Are you Rukil?" Kairi asked.

"Yes," he said. "I hear you are venturing outside the gates. My apprentice vanished when she left this sanctuary three days ago, searching for the fabled map, but I fear she is gone, along with the people's last hope."

"Fabled map?" Kairi asked.

Rukil seemed to weigh the possibilities before answering. "I... I cannot tell you more. Not until you can prove yourself worthy of knowing. My vision may be...clouded."

"Let's get out of here," Carth said warily. The hair was standing up on the back of his neck. There was something in the way Rukil was staring at him that set his internal alarm klaxons screaming.

"Find Malya, my apprentice, and tell me of her fate. Then, I will be able to tell you."

"He’s just a crazy old man." Carth whispered, tugging on Kairi’s arm. He knew, though, that that it was more out of discomfort with Rukil’s stare than anything the old man was saying.

Kairi shrugged. "It won’t do any harm to look while we’re out there. We can let you know if you find anything."

She left the tent, walking ahead. As Carth went to follow, he heard Rukil speak.

"Stay behind."

It wasn't so much the words as the way he said it. Carth froze, slowly turning to see into eyes that seemed to strip him bare and look directly into his heart.

"What I will say is for your ears—not the woman's."

"Okay." No other sound seemed to make it in the tent—just them and the fire. Carth swore he could hear his heart pounding in his chest.

"I can see the armor you have pulled around yourself, the pain that will drive you to your madness and death."

"You don't know...you...you can't know…"

Rukil's voice was steady. "I know what I see—those wounds on your soul. Rather than allowing yourself to heal, those wounds fester. A soul can die, too."

"What? Why,,,? Why do you care?" First Kairi’s questions, now this lunatic’s rants; why couldn’t he just be left alone?

"I will not be here to see your fates. I can only see that it threatens to destroy you both. This destiny...you will face it together, or not at all. You must let her save you, because it will save her."

"You're talking nonsense!"

Rukil was unshaken. "You already know if it's the truth or not, Carth. Now, go."

"What did he say?" Kairi asked once Carth emerged from the tent.

"Nothing much," Carth said. "Come on."

The more Carth thought about Rukil's words, one thing stood out the most. He never told the old man his name.

A great commotion could be heard at the gates. Kairi and Carth rushed over, sword and blasters drawn. At the center of it were the gate guard and a pleading young woman. "You've got to let him in! They'll kill him!"

The guard blocked her way to the gate controls. "And if I let him in, Hester, the rakghouls will kill us all!"

"He'll make it, I know he will!" She gripped the iron gate in her hands. "Run, Hendar, run!"

On the other side of the gates, they saw a young man dashing as fast as he could, pounding on the bars. "Trewin, open the gates. They're right behind me!"

That was their first sight of a rakghoul. Creatures the size of one and a half men, moving about with a lurching gait, they boasted glistening fangs the size of Kairi's palm and claws that could tear apart a swoop bike.

"Open the gates!" Hester shouted, pulling on them fruitlessly. "He'll die otherwise!"

Kairi hesitated for a half-second, but pulled her sword. "Open them! We'll take care of the rakghouls!"

Trewin seemed torn. Hendar's seconds were ticking away. "All right. GO!" He yanked the controls and the gate.

She and Carth raced out, and into battle. There were two of them. Pushing Hendar back through the gates, they charged forward, blasters and sword drawn. Kairi rushed forward, her agility giving her an advantage as she ran ahead and struck from behind.

Carth fired, but the first couple shots only seemed to make the rakghoul angry. It howled and charged, and Carth narrowly dodged the sharp claws on the beast's mutated hand. He ducked the swipe coming at his head, and the claws raked his shoulder, ripping open the light armor and leaving deep scratches.

Carth got a good look on the face—confirming what the Outcasts had said. Warped and twisted as they were, these had once been men. The disease had twisted their bodies as it robbed the sentience from them. Raising his gun, he shot for the forehead, and the rakghoul shrieked and went down in a heap.

Kairi ran up to him. "Carth?"

"Just a scratch," he told her. “You okay?” She nodded a reply.

The Outcast crowd was silent in amazement. Dozens of eyes watched them fight and were now looking on them with amazement and gratitude.

"You both risked your life for a stranger's?" Trewin was amazed. "I had not known that there were those from up-world could be brave."

"I can't thank you enough for saving my life. If I had anything but the rags on my back, I would give them to you," Hendar said.

Hester smiled. "You'll always have me, dear husband."

The pair walked off into the village. Trewin nodded to them. "Well, you can certainly handle yourselves out there, and you're not going to find what you're looking for standing still. Best of luck for both of you. Thank you again for your courage."

Carth touched Kairi’s shoulder. “If you hadn’t shouted to save that guy, then I would have.”

“I... I know,” she said hesitantly. “It was still impulsive. Foolish.”

“If that’s foolish, then no shame in being a fool. Come on.”

Past the village gates, the true desolation of the Under City hit. Rubble had long been stripped for anything useful. Mute testimony to rakghoul presence—half-eaten corpses, the shredded remnants of clothing, shattered bone—could be found scattered almost everywhere.

One of the half-eaten bodies was that of an Outcast woman, large scratches across her neck indicating a swift but horrible end. The body looked relatively recent, compared to the skeletal remains they'd passed earlier. Carth saw something in her hand. Kneeling by her, he opened the stiff joints and found a small sphere. Holding it up, he inspected it.

"What is it?" Kairi asked.

"Looks like a data sphere," he said. "They're archaic technology now, but these were used to store three-dimensional holograms. I wonder what one is doing in the hand of a dead Outcast."

Kairi pulled a leather-bound book from under the dead woman's torso. She leafed through it and shook her head. "This is her journal, I'll bet. The dead woman is Malya, Rukil's apprentice. If she had any clues about his Promised Land, they're gone with her. There are no noble acts – only futile ones."

Carth spun the small silver orb in his hand. "Maybe, Kairi...Maybe."

They found remains of escape pods, passing about a half-dozen on their way. Some had small, freshly dug mounds next to them. Outcast scouts gave a last respect to those who did not survive. Others had footprints that stopped abruptly, leaving only a shredded and bloodstained red or yellow bit of cloth.

The wound on Carth's shoulder was burning, and his muscles were aching. He had to rest. Flopping down next to the rubble next to the pods, he rubbed his pounding head.

"Carth?"

"I don't feel so good, Kairi. I think...I think that scratch from the rakghoul...If...it's true...” He tried to swallow, but his throat burned. “Then I'm not going to make it."

Her eyes went wide, and her entire body went stiff from fright. "No!" she said vehemently. There was panic in her eyes, and she clutched his arm. “Carth, you can’t. We have to keep going. Maybe find a -”

“The Outcast village is the...closest thing, and you heard what they did. We saw the cages near the gate. They...they wouldn’t have anything to help.” He stumbled over to a pod that still had a hatch that could be closed. “I...I want you to help strap me in and close the hatch. That way…”

She pulled on his arm. “No, don’t do this. Don’t you dare give up.”

The pain was making him delirious. It was almost like her fear was tangible, an acid taste like sucking on an old battery. “If I turn, Kairi, will you kill me?”

She shuddered, almost dropping the sword. “Would you kill me if I was infected?”

He stumbled, his legs starting to cramp painfully the more he tried to put weight on them. Knowing his strength was fading fast,he climbed into the pod and fastened one of the straps. Reluctantly, Kairi reached over and pulled the strap he was too weak to reach, fastening it.

Abruptly, she blurted out. "Now, I remember! The Sith patrols down here have the cure. I... I’ll find it."

"Kairi, it's too dangerous…” Carth took her wrist. “Forget about me. Focus on Bastila. Everything depends on…”   
  


She adjusted the seat. "Carth, you've got to hold on. Rest here. I'll come back for you." Kairi didn't say anything more, just looked over her shoulder one last time before she vanished from sight.

She was leaving him alone to die. Carth could accept that. He just hoped she would be able to find Bastila for the Republic’s sake.

\--------------------

Hand clenched around her sword, Kairi tried to steady her racing heart. The reality of her situation was dire; alone in the Undercity, her only real touchstone dying of a rakghoul scratch, as the darkness inside her head that she had done so well to keep pushed away threatened to close in and devour her just as much as the rakghouls.

That cold impulse once again crept up, whispering its poison advice. _You followed in the soldier’s wake, allowing him to shape you._ _Your impulsive actions had consequences that damned you both._

“So?” she argued back at her thoughts, aware it was foolish. “What’s wrong with that? I like his ideas better than yours.”

_Your reliance on a companion made you weak,_ _got you comfortable. It led to suffering;_ _keeping_ _you from gaining the strength you would need to survive and the focus on your goal. At the gate, you echoed his desire to be a protector and hero without thought to consequence._ _You forgot the lesson of sacrifice. It is as much knowing when to sacrifice as what should be._

“Shut up,” she muttered to herself. “If I listened to you, I would have – “

_The Outcast man was already doomed. There is no salvation for him – only a prolonged oblivion. All things die. In extending his insignificant life, it cost you the life of your companion. You are now alone and diminished by your injuries. Because of it, you may have lost your chance to save the Jedi and perhaps millions more. There are no noble acts – only futile ones._

She shook her head. No, there had to be a way. The Sith soldiers sent here had serum; that’s what Zelka said. “What’s done is done. Say something useful.”

_If you are to survive, then you need to take stock of your resources. Your blade is crude, but functional. Your skills, while compromised, are intact. You have made marks in the ground and on the steel to mark the path back to the village. And others have passed here before you._

She looked down and saw tracks in the dirt. Faint, but not completely gone. Two sets; a small bootprint and what looked like a very large bare foot – Mission and Zaalbar, it had to be.

“East,” she said to herself. “I have not explored to the east.”

Kairi hadn't gone far when she saw a figure running for her. It was Mission. Her eyes were large, and her breathing was ragged. Desperately, she took Kairi's shoulders.

"Please, you gotta help me! No one else is going to help me. Not even the Beks are gonna help me, but I can't just leave him!"

Kairi was too stunned to protest. "Mission?! But where is -”

"Those Gammorrean slavers just nabbed Big Z! I can't just let them take him. You have to help me!" She looked at Kairi imploringly.

"What happened?"

"We...we were exploring, and they ambushed us. Big Z... he just threw himself at them and roared at me to get away. I thought he was right behind me, but...but there were too many. They're gonna sell him to a slaver, I know it!"

_The girl’s uses are limited but necessary at the moment. You are in need of a guide._ Kairi shook her head. As much as she hated that poison in her skull, the reasoning was sound. A life for a life would be a fair trade. “I'll help, but right now the man I travel with, Carth, is badly hurt. I have to find some way to help him quickly or he might die. He was hurt by a rakghoul...he's feverish, has muscle pain."

Mission seemed to understand. "Rakghoul disease? Yipes, he's in trouble. Okay, I think I know where you could get some serum. A Sith patrol went into the sewers not long ago."

"All right," Kairi said. "Please, lead the way."

\--------------

Mission half pulled Kairi through the Under City to a large hatchway. Slicing the lock, she dashed inside. The smell made it obvious where they were—the sewers of Taris. This section had long ago fallen to disuse, however. They were walking through what had been maintenance grids; the dim orange lights illuminating where sewer workers once made rounds continuing their duty long after the workers were gone.

A savage cry echoed through the large pipes. Rakghoul! Mission pulled her vibroblade, and Kairi her sword. Slowly, they crept through the darkness. Up and down the winding passageways, they went until they came to one of the round conduits that served as a hub. That's where they saw them.

Two Sith soldiers were already dead. The rakghouls had them outnumbered and their claws had swiped the head from one. A uniformed officer had been impaled on a rusty spike. Two more armored Sith were losing their battle against the four rakghouls that still stood. There was almost an acidic tang of fear in her throat from the Sith, the same discomfort she felt when she heard Leto’s cry for help in the Maze and Hendar’s panic at the gates. She held back; allowing the patrol to thin the rakghoul numbers before being overwhelmed would help both objectives.

Mission made the decision for them. "They may be Sith, but no one deserves to die like that.” Taking a makeshift grenade from a belt pouch, she yanked the pin and threw for the thickest part of the attacking rakghouls. The explosion took out two of the monsters and bloodied the rest, but the survivors turned their attention on Kairi and Mission.

Kairi swiped and stabbed, getting one of the creatures right above the hip. It screamed and turned for her, but the Sith trooper used the opportunity to use his blaster rifle. The rakghoul, roaring with pain, grabbed the unlucky man by the throat and Kairi could hear the bones crunching. As it threw the husk aside, Kairi struck again, plunging her sword into its side. The rakghoul perished. Mission rode out the other one's attempts to throw her off long enough for her to reach around and slice the throat. She jumped off as it collapsed.

The surviving members of the patrol didn’t stand around to ask questions, wisely running as fast as they could back towards the sewer entrance and out of sight. Searching the dead, Kairi found a hypo and three kits of green, bubbling liquid. Mission's eyes lit up.

"That's gotta be the serum!" She looked over. "Where did you leave your friend?"

Kairi told her, and Mission agreed to lead her on the fastest route.

"Gotta warn you, though. It's through the Gammorrean holdout."

"Then we can rescue your companion on the way."

Mission's eyes lit up. "Let's go!"

Mission led her through more twisting passageways, deeper into the sewers. Unfortunately, she was right about the Gammoreans. They took position guarding the ladder out. Behind a huge door, they heard a sharp, guttural howl. Mission grimaced.

"Oh, no...Big Z..." Her face twisted, and second roar sprung her to action. "Hold on, Zaalbar, I'm coming!"

She rushed ahead, and Kairi followed. Gammorreans were known for their ferocity in combat, but they certainly weren't known for intelligence or courage. Seeing two armed women rush from the shadows, they picked up their axes and swords and squealed to the others.

They attempted to rush Mission, but the girl was too smart for them, clambering up the stacks of cargo containers and trash they had lined the walls with, her superior agility leaving her attackers unable to keep up with her. When she reached the top of the stack, the Gammoreans squealed, apparently thinking her trapped. Mission got the upper hand, though. Wedging her blade into a gap in the pile, she shifted an iron bar just a few centimeters left, sending the whole pile crashing down. She jumped off and landed gracefully, but the Gammoreans were not so lucky. They fell to the bottom and were trapped under the debris pile.

Kairi was busy beating back another pair, but their crude strength was no match for her swift slicing. Anger and the desire to kill ate at her, but the need to defend herself pushed the emotions into the back of her mind, giving her a clear focus on what was in front of her. She'd jumped out of the way of one's axe and thrust her sword through his chest as he tried to make another swing. The second tried to sneak up behind her, but when Mission brought the debris pile clattering to the floor, the noise distracted him and gave Kairi her shot—right through his neck.

Blood was everywhere, dripping from their swords. Kairi kicked open a footlocker near the door, and marveled when she picked up the bowcaster. The Wookiee weapons were massive, but beautifully crafted.

Mission set to work on the locked door. It squeaked loudly on its corroded joints as it opened. Behind it was Zaalbar. Kairi had a lot of trouble carrying the bowcaster and handed it back back to him. Now armed, Zaalbar had little trouble blasting through his chains. A step behind her, Mission ran up to him.

_< <"You're a sight for sore eyes, Mission!">>_

"Big Z!" Mission threw her arms around his hairy bulk, and he returned the hug very gently considering his large hands. "Oh, buddy, I was so scared! You didn't think I'd forget about you though? Mission and Big Z—together forever!"

_< <But I told you to run, to find safety and leave me behind...>> _Zaalbar looked quizzically at Kairi. << _"I recognize her from the cantina!" >>_

"Kairi is a friend, Big Z. She offered to help and watched my back during the fight to get here. Without her, I'd never have been able to free you!"

He knew the human would not be able to understand him, but it would be impolite and dishonorable not to thank her. << _"Thank you! Thank you so much!" >>_

Kairi walked up to him. "You're very welcome, Zaalbar. I was happy to help."

That startled him, and he clasped Mission’s shoulder. Usually, the only humans who bothered to understand Shirriwook were more interested in putting a Wookiee in chains rather than freeing one from them. <<" _You...human...you understand me?" >>_

"Yes," she said hesitantly. "I'm a linguist."

_< <"Humans rarely bother to learn the language of my people.">>_

"Oh, I understand it...just don't ask me to speak it."

Zaalbar looked at Mission. It had to have been dangerous coming to rescue him, and he knew young Twi’lek females were also valued as slaves. Kairi must have been helping protect Mission. If that were so, then both of them owed her their lives, but Mission did not have the obligation to acknowledge it.

He did.

_< <"If you understand my words, then you understand that there is only one thing I can do to repay your kindness. You have saved me from a life of a beast and a slave. For my life, the only payment can be a life—I swear mine to yours.">>_

"Whoa," Mission looked up at Zaalbar. "A life-debt. You sure, Big Z? Think it over carefully."

He looked down at his little friend, unused to talking to anyone but her for so long, and even then only in short sentences. _ <<"I'm sure, Mission. This is an issue of deep importance to me. Because of our great strength, Wookiees are being used as slaves on our own home world, or sent off-world as curiosities and beasts. Over the years, slavers have taken many of my people. Our villages are under constant siege.">>_

Mission looked warily between Zaalbar and Kairi. "If you're sure, Big Z…"

_< <"You understand slavery, Mission. Twi'lek girls like yourself are also slaves. My act saved you, and Kairi's has saved both of us. I swear this just as much for you as myself.">>_

"Thing is...” She spoke hesitantly. “Kairi, do you understand what Big Z's saying? Not just the words, but…"

"Is it some kind of loyalty oath?" Kairi asked, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I know the language, but…”

"It's the most solemn vow a Wookiee can make. It means that he'll stick by you for the rest of your life—wherever you go, whatever you do, Zaalbar will be with you. I guess that means you're stuck with me, too," Mission said with a shrug. "Where he goes, I go. I almost lost him once. I'm not going to lose him again."

_< <"In the presence of all of you, I swear my life-debt. Forever after, I will be at your side, Kairi Niko. May this vow be as strong as the great wroshyr trees of Kashyyyk.">>_

"That’s...a little much," she admitted. “But thank you. I could use the help, especially now.”

<<" _If you are kind to Mission, you are already a friend," >> _he said.

"Glad to have you aboard—both of you. Now, we've got to get this serum to Carth!"

Carth regained consciousness, feeling the burning in his blood cool quickly. Hearing and touch were the next senses to return, feeling a hand brush a sweat-drenched lock of hair from his forehead, and a voice talking to him.

"Carth...Carth, can you hear me?"

He couldn’t do much other than groan. Oh, he still felt like something a rancor threw up. After a few seconds, he felt a weight on his chest, and warm rain on his neck. He forced his eyes open.

Kairi was kneeling next to him, her head on his chest like she was listening for a heartbeat. Her eyes were closed, and her body was shaking, tears leaking from her eyes. Carth could hardly believe it!

"Kairi?” His voice was weak, but she must have heard it, starting up from her position, and a syringe falling from her hand. She was still trembling, and her dark eyes were glazed from tears.

"I... I thought I was too late, or that the serum...We have to get this to Zelka. I hope it's enough…"

_She...I thought she'd save herself, not..._ Carth blacked out again.

****

"Easy, friend."

Zelka? The Upper City doctor? He was still confused. What in the hell happened? At least he felt a bit stronger now. Ignoring the splitting pain in his skull, he sat up and looked around. He was in Zelka's "secret passage." The most surprising sight was Mission and Zaalbar standing nearby.

Zelka said, "You’re lucky that you've a pair of friends here—especially one big enough to carry you!"

"Where’s...?"

"She's okay. Just resting," Mission said. "Zelka ran a bunch of tests on her while you were sleeping it off."

Zelka pocketed his datapad. "I'm not sure I want to ask what you were doing with Sith tracking papers, either."

Mission shrugged. "Probably got them from the Beks, is my guess. Gadon's forged a few sets of those."

"I see." Zelka smiled. "Well, while that's a rakghoul scratch, I'd call you lucky. Some kolto for the blood loss, a derma patch, and several hours of rest were all you needed. There is absolutely no trace of the disease in your system."

"Isn't there? I..." He then remembered the green syringe in Kairi's hand. "Check Kairi's pack."

Zelka opened it up and pulled out a small package. He inspected it in amazement. "This...this is the serum! How?” Zelka stopped himself. “No, I don't think I want to know. Safer that way. Can you do me a favor, however?"

"Name it," Carth said.

"I'm going to use these samples to make a hundred doses—that should take care of Gendar's village in the Under City. With this, they'll never have to fear another attack. Can you do that for me?"

"You got it," Carth said.

Zelka handed the pack over to Mission. “Mission, can you and Zaalbar take this down to M1-6T down in lab number twelve? I need to talk to Carth for a bit.”

“Sure thing.” She took the pack and motioned to Zaalbar, who followed. The door shut behind them.

Zelka crossed his arms. "What is your relationship to Kairi, exactly?"

"She's...well...we served together on that ship that the Sith attacked. Why? Is it bad news? Is she all right?"

Zelka held up his hand. "She is, and she’s been asking about your condition every chance she gets. It isn’t all good news, though. She said I could share my results with you.” He handed Carth a datapad. "With the quarantine, and you being...indisposed, I didn’t have any other patients come in, so I ran a wide array of tests; neural scans, bio-electric analysis, blood chemistry... " His eyes grew distant. “I was hoping you could clarify some of these findings.”

Carth swore his stomach sank to the Undercity with the way Zelka said that. The more rational part of him snapped back. _You’ve only known her for ten days and she’s only been conscious for three of them._ _Straighten your wings, Onasi._ “I’m afraid I don’t know much more that I could tell you. She wasn’t one of my soldiers. She’d been taken on as a...contractor. Hadn’t seen her before we had to share an escape pod.”

Zelka nodded. “But let’s start with the biggest issue. The plasma shock did leave permanent damage. I was able to verify that with the neural scans. The damage won’t get any worse, but it isn’t likely to improve, either."

"Her...her memory you mean?"

"The brain scans confirm the damage – small lesions on the thalamus and her right frontal cortex. I would wager on total retrograde amnesia.”

Carth wasn’t a trained medic by any stretch, but it didn’t sound good. “So she’s telling the truth? She really doesn’t remember anything before the ship?”

Zelka shook his head. “The spots involved in memory retrieval are completely dormant on scans. You can lie to people, but you can’t lie to a scanner. She’s likely to have smaller lapses in memory; names, directions, that sort of thing. She should be fine if she keeps a datapad handy. Probably will have some trouble with sleep as well. I can get her something for that if we have to. Motor skills and reflexes are normal...maybe even above normal...but she has low-level nerve pain. She can power through it; the pain isn’t severe enough to incapacitate unless she gets overtired. That might improve with time _if she rests_. Her cognitive skills are intact; my droids speak about thirty languages and she could converse in all of them. Unfortunately, there's little more I can do for her. Even the best doctors on Coruscant couldn't do much more for her.”

As Zelka went on, Carth read through the datapad and it just unsettled him more. So she couldn’t tell him anything and wasn’t lying. Worse, Zelka wasn’t lying about a thorough job; any more detailed and it would have been an autopsy. She was in peak physical condition, but there was a catalog of evidence pointing to healed injuries; broken bones, burns. The other strange thing was a lack of the scar tissue one would expect with that many old injuries.

_She’s had a rough life, but she’s also had top tier medical care._ _Well, either that or..._ He had seen enough in the Wars to know Jedi healed faster than average – and took a lot of abuse to justify it. But Kairi was just one of Bastila’s advisers, right? At best, maybe Service Corps or even an SIS agent. None of this matched the background on file and the fact that she wasn’t lying about not being able to tell him... _Bastila had better have some karking answers._

“Wait here,” Zelka said. “I left her to get dressed. She’ll want to see you.”

Carth got up and paced the room, experimentally fingering the bandage on his shoulder. The kolto enhancements to it would ensure that it would heal in a matter of hours. He stopped at the tanks, looking into them to see the dying men that Zelka had hidden. There were only two occupied chambers left.

The first that was still holding on was suspended, held up by harnesses. An arm was gone, and his chest looked sunken. Lieutenant Thay Los. He'd been on the _Endar Spire_ as a second tour of duty. The second was Master Sergeant Callidan—a tough old bastard from the Republic Marines. Hard to think of a stubborn, grizzled kath hound like him languishing through his last days in a kolto tank.

"Carth? Are you all right? Zelka said you were awake."

He spun around to see that Kairi had entered the room and was watching him with concern.

"All right?" He thought about it. "I suppose, yes—thanks to you. Guess I have a lot on my mind," he said. "A lot to say and I'm not sure where to start. I suppose 'thank you' would be the best place to begin. I wouldn’t blame you if you left me behind, but…"

"I didn't. I couldn't," she said. "Why should that surprise you?"

"I guess it shouldn't," Carth admitted. "Still does, though. Zelka's given me a clean bill of health, and he…he told me what he found on your scans. I don’t know what to say other than ‘I’m sorry.’"

She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. "I suspected as much. Having it confirmed, though...Everything’s gone. And here you are, stuck with a civilian with a hole in her head and a skill-set I have no idea how I acquired. Worse is it was my decision that got you injured -"

"Kairi, I would have made that call, too. You just beat me to it. Even with what's happened to you, you've got to be the most skilled woman I've ever met. Getting the rakghoul serum was only one time of many that you've saved my life. I'm lucky you're helping me, no question about it."

"I sense a 'but' in there.”

"Kairi, why is the issue of whether I trust someone or not so personal to you? I've...I've just been betrayed before, and...” His hands fell to his sides and balled up into fists. “Well, I can't let it happen again, I won't."

"I'm not going to betray you, Carth. Have I given you reason to think I will?"

He reached out as if to touch her shoulder, but cupped her face instead. "I know you believe what you're saying...and part of me wants to go ahead and trust you, but there's no such thing as a guarantee, Kairi. We both know that."

"So, it hasn't a thing to do with me—you're just suspicious of everyone?"

"That's it exactly."

She looked up at him, and Carth almost felt his resolve crack. He just wasn't ready, though...not after Telos...not after… "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" she asked.

"I'm sure. What I want to do is save the galaxy, if that's even possible. Are you with me there?"

Kairi nodded. "I'm on your side. Please, just know that."

****

Since Mission and Zaalbar made it clear that they were joining Kairi and Carth's quest, they followed back to the apartment. There, they were filled in on the battle aboard the _Spire_ , Kairi's accident, and Bastila's capture. Mission took most of it in stride, and Zaalbar appeared to stay silent, deep in thought about the situation. Carth headed for the fresher, leaving Kairi to do most of the talking.

"So, Kairi, you don't remember anything before the attack, even if you know how to do all this stuff?"

"That's right."

"And those Vulkar slimes took a Jedi?"

"Yes."

Mission whistled. "Good thing you have Big Z and me to help you then! Sounds like you need all the help you can get!"

"Mission," Kairi asked. "Do you have any family? Isn’t someone going to be looking for you?"

Mission tried to make light of it with a shrug. "Big Z's my family. My parents...well; I'd guess they're dead. I never knew them. Then, after my brother took off...."

"You've a brother?"

Mission folded her arms. "Touchy subject, Kairi. Anyway, he bails and I'm on my own until I see Zaalbar. I could tell right away he was in trouble. Even before the gang wars started, the Vulkars were bad news. I see them picking on Big Z, and I had to go help!"

Zaalbar let out an affirmative howl.

"No one said those Vulkars were bright, did they?" Mission asked rhetorically. "Six of them, one of him. Even if you're dealing with a Wookiee, that's bad. Anyway, I see them picking on him—all alone on a strange planet...Well, I just lost it."

<<" _You decided to pick the fight with them." >>_ Zaalbar said.

"Am I telling the story, or you?"

Zaalbar smiled indulgently at her.

"I shout at them and go charging in with my blaster. One of those Vulkars turned around and decked me so hard I almost blacked out!"

Kairi said, "That was brave of you, but maybe not the best idea.”

"I can handle myself! Those Vulkars are nothing but cowards. I guess Zaalbar didn't like seeing me get smacked around. He lets out his howl and yanks their leader a meter off the ground by his throat! Thought for a minute he was going to beat the punk to death with his own spine, but the others...you had to be there to understand, but they get this look on their faces and I've never seen those guys run so fast!"

Mission cleared her throat and continued. "Their leader faints. Maybe he was just scared, or maybe Big Z's breath just knocked him out."

_< <"Mission!">>_

She smiled teasingly and ruffled his fur. "You know I love you. Just not your breath. Anyway, Zaalbar throws him aside. I just grab his hand, and we haul out of there. Been together since."

"And just what are you doing on Taris, Zaalbar?"

The large Wookiee just fell silent, looking down on the floor.

"Sorry, Kairi. He doesn't talk about it, not even to me. In case you didn't notice, he's the strong, silent type.”

Kairi spared a glance toward the fresher. “I think I can relate.”

<<" _I am not able to speak of the reasons why I left Kashyyyk. They are too painful to share, and an outsider would find it hard to understand. Please know that this does not mitigate my life-debt, Kairi Niko." >>_

“It doesn't matter to me, though,” Mission added cheerfully. “We just...well, we tend to live in the present."

Carth smiled as he came out of the fresher, toweling off his hair. "Watch yourself. She's got a way of prying your secrets from you."

Mission stuck out her tongue at Carth playfully before turning back to Kairi. "So, you want me to help you into the Vulkar base so you can get the Bek accelerator back so you can race a swoop and win your Jedi friend's freedom, and maybe save the Republic itself. Hey, sounds like fun!"

"What we're doing is highly dangerous, Mission," Carth told her. "It's no place for a kid."

Mission folded her arms. "I'm fourteen. I'm not some little kid!"

"Fourteen, huh?" Carth said. "You're just a little younger than..." His voice trailed off again, like an iron wall came down. "How did Kairi talk you into coming along? I mean, you don't have to stay."

Zaalbar replied. Carth looked up. "Sorry, Zaalbar. Kairi's the linguist, not me."

Mission sat down. "Big Z's sworn a life-debt to Kairi. Means that she pretty much is stuck with him—and me. As for dangerous, well...life is dangerous. Doesn't mean you can hide all the time."

\---------------------

Deciding that Zaalbar would be conspicuous, they left him the guard the hideout as they went back to Zelka's to pick up the medicine. Sure enough, Zelka had been able to replicate the formula, and set them off with packs full of it. He also gave them five doses in case they should find themselves in need of it. It was also a long and twisted journey through the Lower City as they made their way to through abandoned transit tunnels where they'd be utterly lost without Mission's navigation.

"Hey, Carth," Mission said. "You're a pilot, right?"

"That's right."

"So, I'll bet you've been all over the galaxy. I wanna know, how does Taris rate?"

"Well, there are worse places," Carth admitted. "But overall—pretty low. The rich spoiling themselves, the poor crushed beneath—not a pretty picture."

"Hmmm..." Mission seemed to think this over. "You mean people live differently elsewhere? This isn't the way it is for most places?"

"That's right." He shook his head. "And it's no place for a girl on her own—not even one that's paired up with a Wookiee."

"He's my friend, not my babysitter!" Mission said. "I ask you a question, and I get a lecture..."

"Hey, don't snap at me, missie! Is it a lecture you're after? Well, here's one—only bratty children go flying off the handle due to a simple comment."

"I don't have to be listening to you. You're not my father—though you're sure old enough to be! You keep that lecture inside your withered old head, ' cause I don't need 'em."

"And I sure as hell don't need this from some snot-nosed punk!"

Kairi stepped between them. "Would you stop? You both are hurting my ears.”

Both of them took a few deep breaths. After a few moments, they cooled off.

"Guess you're right, Kairi." Mission sighed. "We stand around here arguing, it'll just attract Vulkars looking for a real fight."

"You ready to have a civil chat, or is this going to be another tantrum?"

"Tantrum? I'm trying to apologize, you nerf-herder!" She stopped herself. "Uh...sorry...I mean...Well, I didn't mean to get so mad at you. It's just that...well, everyone treats me like I'm some helpless little kid, and I'm sick of it."

"Yeah, I know. And I've been a real bantha’s ass—just ask Kairi. Guess I've been on-edge, considering what's happened. I shouldn't take it out on you." He gestured around. "I don't think you're helpless, and neither does Kairi. Look where we are. Look at what we're doing. You aren't along for the ride, Mission – we need you."

She seemed taken aback by this. "You...you mean it, don't you? Not even Big Z's said that to me. Sure, he probably thinks it, but he's not great with words." She smiled. "Thanks, Carth."

Carth found himself smiling back. "Ah, no big deal, I know how it is. Sometimes we all need a word or two of encouragement, kids especially."

"Kids?" Mission stopped herself, finally realizing Carth's joke. She started laughing. "Okay, you got me there, geezer. You're pretty funny, Carth...for an old guy. C'mon, this way."

Mission guided them to a secret entrance to the Undercity, winding them back through the Village, and to Gendar’s hut.

"Gendar?"

The Outcast leader looked them over. "Did you find your friend, up-worlders?"

"No," said Kairi. "But you were still a lot of help. We're bringing a gift from Zelka." Taking off their packs, they handed Gendar the vials. His eyes lit up.

"This...this is not what I believe it is."

"Believe it!" Mission said. "Kairi got it off the patrols, got it to Zelka. Zelka did the rest."

He seemed overcome with joy. "I will get this to Essala at once. Excuse me." He took the containers and made for another tent.

They still had another, sadder, duty to Rukil.

The hair on Carth's neck stood on edge as he walked into Rukil's tent. Kairi seemed confident enough as she sat cross-legged on the floor across from the ancient man.

"I found this. It was on a body outside the gates. Do you recognize it?" She handed Rukil the leather-bound book. The old man took it, shaking his head sadly.

"Yes, I do. It seems that you found Malya's remains...as I feared. I know that you've also brought the serum to our people, making certain no others will die as she did. For this, you prove to be the ones I have waited for."

"Maybe you have us confused with someone else," Kairi said.

"I do not mistake the mantle of destiny that hangs over you, nor your deeds of heroism," Rukil said. "Perhaps I know you better than you know yourselves?"

Kairi shot a look to Carth, who shrugged and said nothing, pointedly looking at the floor as to not meet Rukil’s gaze.

"The Promised Land is no legend, I can assure you. I was very young at the time of the Great War, but still knew of it. Now that you both have proven yourselves, I will be able to tell you."

"Very well," Kairi said in agreement.

"The great city of Taris covers all land on this planet. There is no land to grow food. Harvests from the sea were our only source of food, but the ocean became poisoned—famine and civil war swept the planet as the rich hoarded their food and left millions to starve."

"Looks like not much has changed," Carth said bitterly. "The Upper City rich live like princes while the rest of Taris rots."

"In the Great War, the poor rose up to defend themselves. Entire sections of the city were destroyed or abandoned. In the end, the Rebellion was crushed. The jails could not hold all the dissenters. The old city was paved over and a new city build atop it, the former rebels and their entire families banished to its depths. The Undercity was born."

"What do you expect from Tarisian nobility?" Mission grumbled. "They'd stuff their own mothers down here if it would make more room for their egos."

"Ah," said Rukil. "But there is hope, the last legacy of our rebel ancestors...the Promised Land. And you three will be the ones who show us the way. The rebels had a base ---beneath even the Undercity—a self-sufficient colony where we can grow and harvest food, and where droid servants tend to our needs. That...that is the Promised Land."

Carth retained his skepticism. "Sounds to me like a con—some false hope so you don't take up arms against the Upper City again or go mad with despair down here."

"Still unwilling to trust, I see," Rukil said, and then took out an old sphere reader. "Unfortunately, no one will be after Malya. I am too old to take another apprentice, and even if the sphere exists..."

Carth felt his pocket, remembering the small sphere he took from Malya's hand. "Wait!" Fumbling in his pocket, he pulled it out and showed it to Rukil "Is...is this what you're talking about?"

Rukil took it, his hands shaking. "It is true, then?" He put the missing sphere in the slot, and an arc of energy passed through it. The holographic map flickered, and came to life.

"Hey!" Mission exclaimed. "I know where that is! It's only a week on foot! There’s a big door that I never was able to figure out how to open." She pointed to a pass outlined on the map. "Head that way. It's the best route—it's through coolant vents. You'll need a good coat, but the rakghouls don't like the cold."

Carth ran up the stairs to catch up with Gendar as he was turning over the serum to Essala, the Outcast's healer. "Gendar! Hey, you have to see this!"

"What is it?"

"I...I think Rukil's got something you'll want to see."

Gendar signed. "Not more tales of a so-called paradise, is it?"

"Uh, they might not be tales, Gendar. Have a look for yourself."

Gendar walked in the hovel to see the map with the clearest route marked. "This...this is amazing! Are these real, Rukil? Is this information accurate?"

"Accurate?" said Mission. "Oh, they're accurate. That's the reason your Promised Land was so hard to find. It's hidden in plain sight! And the geographical data...there is something under there—tunnels and chambers. It's the size of a small city, big enough for everyone!"

Gendar's face lit up. "And we lived in fear of the rakghouls, but thanks to you, we have the means to end the scourge. Our supplies are high right now...we can start the trip in less than a day! I'll tell the others to prepare." Gendar quickly left the tent.

Rukil stood up and shook Kairi and Mission's hands. "Thank you once more. Where we go, you will not be able to follow. Your destiny is elsewhere and yet to be chosen."

"Farewell, Rukil, and thank you for your wisdom."

"I must prepare for the trip. I'm afraid my age means I'll have to take longer than others. Just remember what I have told you."

Mission and Kairi went topside, leaving Carth to watch the display and think about the last day.

"Maybe I shouldn't doubt so much," Carth said absently. He looked up. "You...you were right last time. Kairi...I was infected by the rakghouls. She risked her neck to get the serum...saved my life." He put his hands on the table and leaned in. "I want to know how you knew about that."

"I am glad to know that you have saved each other's lives....But she has yet to save you," Rukil warned. "And you to save her."

About to express another round of doubt or argue that the old man was speaking in riddles, Carth stopped himself cold. He still remembered how the disease has made his blood burn, and how he had been willing to bet the Republic itself on her not coming back, leaving him to die. Other things he recalled, too...coming out of the fever to feel her head on his chest and her tears on his skin.

"How can I save her, Rukil? I'm not sure I can save myself."

"The seed of it is already planted, but you must allow it to grow."

He had a sneaking suspicion of what the old man was talking about, but he wasn't about to admit it—even to himself. "I'll...I’ll take your word for it, Rukil."

Word spread quickly, and the caravans assembled, makeshift things of old repulsorlifts and makeshift wheeled wagons. Supplies were packed, villagers giddy with excitement. That night, the Outcasts had packed their things and prepared their caravan. Kairi, Carth, Mission, and Zaalbar did what they could to help.

They stood by the gates as the last group was leaving. Among them was Rukil, wrapped in his warmest cloak and carrying a walking stick, but otherwise showing no hint of his age.

Carth put his hands on Kairi's shoulders, nodding to Rukil as he passed.

Rukil smiled in reply and shuffled out the gate. It closed behind the departing caravan of Outcasts, leaving the three of them amid the abandoned village.

Kairi pulled back from Carth and looked at the gate, uncertainty clear on her face. “It’s still going to be a difficult journey; rakghouls, slavers, even mercenaries and Sith out there. At the end of the trail, they’ll need a way past the door that hasn’t been unlocked. Even if they do get past those difficulties, that Promised Land might not be…” She shook her head. “All we did was give them a false hope.”

“They’ll make it,” Mission said. “I believe in them.”

“We gave them the truth and we gave them a chance. That’s all,” Carth said. “What they do with it is up to them, but it’s better than nothing at all.”

"You do for others what you hope others would do for you," she said, repeating what Carth had told her earlier. She watched them as they vanished into the maze of the Undercity. "Yes, a chance...at least they have it."


	6. Beks, and Vulkars, and Swoops

**Chapter 4**

**Beks, and Vulkars, and Swoops**

Mission took them back to the sewers. "The Vulkar base is to the northwest. Fortunately, I can take down their force shield. Unfortunately, the back way is guarded by the pet rancor."

"Pet rancor?" Carth shook his head. "Well, this just keeps getting better, doesn't it?"

"A rancor beast on Taris?" Kairi asked.

"Yeah, don't ask me how it got here. I know it used to make its nest in the sewers. Eats anything it can get its claws on—it's HUGE! The good part is that it's really stupid. I've sneaked past it before."

Reaching the first hub, they heard a voice behind them. "D...don't move!"

Turning around, they faced a baby-faced human in light armor—probably another tracker.

"Settle down, you idiot. Don't be wasting your ammo," a gravely voice shouted to him. "The rakghouls have already taken out a half-dozen men and the last thing we need is a foolhardy firefight."

Catching up to his position was Canderous with three other mercenaries. One was limping. Another was holding his side. Canderous himself had a vicious-looking chemical burn on his forearm, but didn't seem to notice it. The Mandalorian regarded them with something akin to amusement. "Well, now...if it isn't the odd pair.” He shook his head at Mission. “They hire you on as a guide, street rat?”

“No, sir,” she said. “They helped me out, so I’m helping them.”

“You’re too good-natured. It’ll get you killed,” he argued, then abruptly turned to Kairi and Carth. “Look, I know you two are obviously from off-world, and I don't know how you got here, but you'd best turn back. This place is dangerous."

"Is that supposed to be a threat?" Kairi asked.

Canderous smiled. "Mandalorians do not make threats, Miss, we make promises. Especially to someone who can fight, as you obviously can. No, all I'm doing is giving a friendly warning."

The mercenary holding his side let out a moan. Kairi took off her pack. "We've medpacks and rakghoul serum. At least let us help you."

The three of them patched the mercenaries using a couple kits and made sure they were inoculated.

"I told Davik this wasn't a good idea," Canderous complained. "These men aren't trained for this, and I can't baby-sit them!" Flexing his arm experimentally after Kairi finished her bandaging, he nodded approval. "You seem to know how to handle yourselves though."

Kairi explained, "We've business here, as do you."

Canderous snorted. "Let me guess—those Republic escape pods. Well, forget about it. The damn Vulkars already stripped those. Likely, there's nothing worth finding. Just how did you get the vaccine anyway?"

"A doctor in the Upper City."

Canderous dropped his voice, and snatched her arm, his large hand easily encircling her forearm. He exerted not quite enough force to injure her, but enough to let her know he meant business. "Someone had to deliver it to him, which means stealing it from the Sith. Your Republic boyfriend might think I'm stupid, but I'm not. I keep track. I know what's luck and what's the real thing."

She refused to be intimidated. "Anything else you'd like to say?"

"Only that I'll continue to watch." He let go of her limb and put an equipment pack at her feet. It was full of fragmentation grenades—inelegant, but certainly effective. "That's in trade for your services."

Before she was completely aware of it, the words slipped out. “ _Vor entye.”_

One iron-colored eyebrow went up, and she half-imagined that he was smiling, even if his outwardly stone face didn’t change at all. He called over his shoulder. "We're heading back to the surface, boys. Move out."

They vanished into the darkness of another sewer tunnel before Mission gestured for them to follow her.

Sure enough, in the northwest corner of the sewers was a purple, shimmering forcefield. Mission stepped up to the computer panel in front of it like a master musician to her instrument.

"You won't be able to get past that if you don't know the proper codes. Fortunately, I picked the pocket of a Vulkar that had a little too much to drink in the cantina and..."

The shimmering field faded away, allowing them access. It was still a few more kilometers' worth of twisted passages and reeking corridors before they found the rancor beast.

It was in a vast pit, guarding the door on the other side. A rusted ladder was the only way to the bottom. The beast had to be the size of a house; brown, leathery hide would protect it from blasters or blades, and its squashed-looking face boasted fangs the size of a man. Clearly fighting it was no option.

"How in the hell did you get past it last time?" Carth asked.

"Waited until the Vulkars were feeding it, and sneaked past them. I was small, they were large—they were better-looking food."

Carth got an idea. "Well, when we were fighting the Mandalorians, they made booby traps out of people they killed. Planted a bomb in the corpse and waited for us to try and recover it."

"Sounds gross," Mission said. "But the Vulkars have fed a few Beks to it, so I know it’ll eat that."

They backtracked through the corridors and hubs of the sewers, back to the place where the Sith patrol had met a bloody end. Mission looked a little green. Kairi and Carth did the better part of the dragging. Loading the dead man's garments with fragment grenades, they threw it down into the pit where the Vulkar's pet rancor was starting to wake up.

The Rancor woke up, smelling food in the pit. Taking the body in its large claws, it gulped it in a single swallow. They were starting to believe their plan had failed when it trudged back to its nest. Halfway there, it halted clutched at its belly howling with pain, letting out a screech that was straight out of a nightmare.

BOOM!

Fire shot out of its gullet as it stumbled backwards, reeling as the succession of grenades set off a chain reaction. They barely missed getting doused in rancor innards when the last massive explosion went off, and the rancor's enormous carcass dropped to the floor of the pit. Mission looked very queasy, and no one blamed her when she brought up the rear after ducking off to a side corridor for a moment.

The back door guard was alone, and as Kairi approached, he pulled out a sword and tried to defend himself. Kairi knocked the sword from his hand and he fell to the floor. She could see now that he was an older Twi'lek man. He fell to his knees and looked up at her, pleading in his dialect.

<<" _I surrender! I surrender! Don't kill me! I'm not like these others - Brejik and these new Vulkars!" >> _

"What are you talking about?" Kairi asked. "You're not a Vulkar?"

<<" _I am Tal. I am a Vulkar, but I was here long before Brejik_ _—_ _back when being a Vulkar had some honor to it. When he took over, the gang became bloodthirsty thugs. They treat us original Vulkars like second-class citizens.”_ Tal grimaced. “ _I used to be third in charge_ _—_ _now I guard this back door, and will be fed to the rancor if I try to leave the gang_.">>

"Well, you needn't worry about the rancor. It's dead."

<<" _What are you after in the base_?">>

"The swoop accelerator. We're trying to retrieve it."

Tal laughed. <<" _I can get you there! Take the passkey. It will work the elevator, and you can cause all sorts of trouble if you get to a terminal and slice the security here_.">>

"As for jumping ship, Gadon needs help. Would you consider it?" Mission asked. When he nodded, she took a black ribbon off her head tail. "Tell them Mission sends you."

<<" _Thank you_!">> The man vanished into the darkness of the base, heading for the lift to the Lower City.

If the Vulkar base had been anything but a chop shop, Kairi would have not believed it. Large industrial engines clattered and whirred, generating both power for the base and a maddening din. The spaces were wide and open, large motors humming and partitions with patrol droids walking with impunity, shooting down any invaders. Fortunately, droids were also very easy to destroy. Down a dusty, mostly unused section converted to storage, they found a neglected computer terminal. Mission went right up to it and fished out a few computer spikes. Spikes were the name commonly given to small devices that could flood a terminal's security program by either infecting it with a virus or overloading it with digital garbage. In some systems, possession of them could land one in jail. Taris, however, was not in one of those systems.

Using the shadows and the loud music blaring from the recreation hall, and the engine noises to their advantage, they made their way from towards the far end of the base mostly undetected. Droids patrolling the halls didn't last long when they met with Carth's blasters or the women's blades.

Mission plugged her spike into the interface and shook her head. "They spend all their time strutting around the streets and leave their base wide open. Gotta love the brains on these guys.” She pulled up the schematic and sent it to Kairi’s datapad. “From what I can tell, the accelerator would be in the office of the head mechanic. That’s on the far end of the lower floor.

“Lots of Vulkars and only three of us,” said Carth. “Mission, can you create some kind of distraction?”

“Give them a few things other than us to worry about? Sure thing!” Her small, blue hands flew over the keys. “I’ll disable the alarm systems and set a timer to put the generators into cold shutdown—that ought to keep them busy. Oh, lookie here. They control their droids from these panels? Talk about dumb! From here, I’ll scramble their programming so the guard droids will shoot at anything that moves. And just so it'll take them even longer to clean up the mess…" She looked over her shoulder. "Get away – fast!"

Mission put in her last bit of instructions and started running like her feet were on fire, catching up to Carth and Kairi. No sooner had she escaped to a safe distance then the terminal seemed to melt—sparks shooting out of it, the panel catching ablaze and the stench of fried electronics hitting them.

Already, the generators were grinding to a halt, and cursing echoed through the halls as mechanics and repair droids raced everywhere. The patrol droids were firing wildly; at the Vulkars, at the repair droids, and at each other. Techs staggered out of a space lab that was venting sweet-smelling fumes into nearby halls, and there may have been some fires starting, judging from the shouts. The Vulkars had their hands full, and the state of chaos was just what they needed, as the foot traffic was heading one direction, and they were headed the other.

Tal’s passkey got them to the garage level. Swoop bikes, at least a dozen of them, were in various stages of repair. Carth taking point, they ducked and crept through the garage, using the bikes as cover. No one dared say a word, lest they give their position away. So far, everyone was too busy with the distraction Mission caused.

They got to the Head Mechanic’s office undetected, and Mission sliced the lock. Kairi and Carth guarded the door as she searched, wrenching open the lockers in the back and the drawers on the desk. There wasn’t going to be the time or reason to go slowly on this one. Finally, Mission broke the lock on a drawer in the bottom of the desk, and pulled out a small black device the size of a blaster. "Found it!"

Carth somehow expected it would be more of a problem. "Y'mean this is it?"

"Yup! We'd better get out of here – fast!"

They opened the door to race back to the elevator, only to find five Vulkars blocking their way out led by a reedy looking Twi’lek.

<<“ _Look what we got here. The Bek’s little mascot and some mercs the old man hired to steal our accelerator.” >>_

Mission bristled at the word “mascot” and fired back. “Brejik stole the engine from Gadon. I was never yours to begin with, Kandon!”

_< <“What’s the old man paying you?”>>_ Kandon asked. _< <“We could easily double it.”>>_

“The Vulkars have done nothing but take shots at us since we arrived here,” Kairi said sharply. “You think we’ll join you? You must be stupider than you look.”

Kandon brought up his blade. _< <“Well, then. Guess you won’t be leav -.”>>_

He didn’t get to finish that sentence, as Kairi ran him through, spun on her heel, and smacked a female Vulkar with the flat of her blade, knocking her unconscious.

As she fought, Kairi could only see panic and fear in her attackers, washing the world in shades of red. Her heartbeat seemed to drown out any sounds. It was as though she were outside her own body, watching herself block and counter, strike and parry. It was nothing more than instinct, muscle memory remembering things she could not consciously recall.

It was only after the five Vulkars lay at her feet did her feet become wobbly and she half collapsed, Carth’s arms steadying her.

“Easy there. You wounded?”

She shook her head, part to answer him and part to shake off the disconcerting feeling that seemed to cover her.

There were shouts and footsteps coming closer. They’d have to fight their way out.

Blasters and swords clashed as they rushed past towards the elevators, still operating on emergency power. Carth lobbed grenades to clear out any backup. Herding the women ahead, he slammed the lift controls while laying cover fire.

The lift shot upwards to the top level and the Lower City. When they were almost convinced that the worst was past them, the elevator halted abruptly. Mission swore and ripped open the access panel. "They're trying to trap us!"

As she tried to re-wire the lockout, two Vulkars crashed down into the lift. Five people in such tight quarters weren’t the best conditions for a fight, but Kairi and Carth made the most of it. Kairi managed to pull the shock stick from the first one's belt and jam it into his throat. Carth was less subtle, the other one knocked out by a left hook and a jab to the abdomen.

Mission looked up. "I can't stop them! They're going to drop this car to the basement! I've jammed it, but I don't know for how long!"

Carth looked through the hole above them. "Come on! Through the ceiling! I'll help you two up."

He boosted them through the hole and they helped pull him up. Three thick cables supported the old lift, and they barely had time to pull Carth out and grab the cables before the car they'd been riding plunged down the shaft, crashing to the bottom as a pile of twisted metal.

They climbed to the next level, Mission taking another small device out of her coat and aiming it for the doors. "This ought to open the doors, but we won’t have much time before the generators totally shut down."

Sure enough the door slid open and the three of them swung into the main hallway—and the business end of several Vulkars who had the drop on them. Behind them, open to the streets of the Lower City, the Vulkar base's main entrance was right behind them. That was—if they had a chance to reach it.

The Aqualish in charge was laughing as he pointed his blaster at them. << _"Not too smart are you? We Vulkars smart. We Vulkars tough..." >>_

His toadies laughed with him in a way that made their blood cold. No way out.

And that's when they heard a loud clanking and scraping noise—metal shrieking against metal. The generators finally finished cold shutdown. The Vulkars were confused and panicked, and that's when everything went dark. The once-swaggering Aqualish had vastly changed his tone as he started shouting orders to his disoriented followers to find the "rest of the intruders."

As the Vulkars were regrouping, they took their chances and rushed the disorganized group, fighting past them in a crazy sprint for the doors. They made it to the maze of the Lower City, losing the rest of the Vulkars in the process.

****

"Gadon!"

"Well, now, Mission. Glad to see things worked out right after all. Where's Zaalbar?"

"Guarding our hideout," she said. "You wouldn't believe what we did!"

Kairi and Carth were grinning broadly as they walked in, striding right up to Gadon's desk and putting the accelerator on it. Zaerdra's jaw just about hit the floor. "I...I can't believe this! It's the prototype, Gadon. Just like they said."

Gadon sat smugly back in his chair. "You sure you folks don't want to boast Bek colors full time?"

Mission laughed. “Hey, I’d love to, but it’s up to them.”

"I hope you're still able to come through for us, Gadon," Carth said. "Is the race still on?"

"Like the sun comes up," Gadon said. "Now, which of you is going to ride under the Bek flag to win your friend back?"

Carth looked over at Gadon. "What's the catch?"

Gadon’s silver eyes studied the accelerator with concern. "The accelerator has a few bugs—we've worked out most of them, but it's only good for a few laps. After that..."

"After that, it explodes," Zaerdra said. "That's why Gadon's not putting one of our racers on it, but if you race with this, it’s the best chance you have of getting that Republic officer back from the Vulkars. Most likely, it’s your only way."

“Then I’ll ride it,” “I volunteer,” “I’ll do it.” All three of them spoke almost at once.

“Only one of you can,” Gadon said. “Those are the rules.”

“Kairi, I’m a pilot. I’ll take the risk,” Carth insisted.

“I’d do it for Gadon as much as you," Mission argued "I won’t let you down.”

Kairi shook her head. “No. Mission, if we succeed and get Bastila out of there, your knowledge of Taris and hiding spots is too valuable to waste. Carth, if Bastila is to get off the planet, she’ll need a pilot skilled enough to fly through the blockade. And if..." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "The Republic can afford the loss of a translator. It cannot afford the loss of a veteran pilot and officer. If I fail, it will be up to you to free Bastila and have Mission get all of you into hiding.”

"Kairi, are you nuts?" Carth gaped at her. “You can’t even remember if you know how to ride a swoop!”

“True,” she countered. “But Carth, think about this. It makes sense that I go.”

Gadon folded his arms. “You don't get to be leader of a swoop gang unless you can work all the angles, and I agree with the lady,” he said. “Hell of a thing to decide, but you _are_ too valuable to lose, Mission.”

“Gadon!”

“Mission, think for a moment; you know more hiding places than _I_ do, and I led the Beks as a resistance cell when the Mandalorians showed up. If Kairi, Carth, and their Republic friend are to evade capture from the Sith, their fate is in _your_ hands.”

She swallowed hard. “Y…Yes, sir.”

He stepped out from behind the desk and looked Kairi up and down, his silver eyes unblinking. "As for the two of you, let’s do this the old fashioned way. I’ll have the mechanics take you both down to our practice track. Whoever gets the fastest time gets to race for the Beks. Even if you fail, one of my own riders could still come through. Best of luck."

They shook on it.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The practice track was not far, of course. Zaerdra escorted Kairi and Carth down to it and gave the mechanic brusque directions to test them both out on the swoops.

  
  


“Tuula,” she said to an Ithorian who was rummaging through a toolbox. “We have some riders who are willing to test that accelerator. Gadon wants to use the old-fashioned method to see who’ll qualify for the race.”

Tuula looked them up and down. _< <“But we don’t have that accelerator, and it’s too close to the race to rebuild –“>>_

Zaerdra cut him off, tossing the accelerator to him. It was heavy enough for Tuula to stagger back when he caught it.

<<“ _How?” >>_

“Ask them,” she said before walking back into the lift.

Carth whistled low as he saw the swoops being pulled out of the loading bay. Lovingly polished and immaculately maintained, the swoops were barely anything more than a powerful engine with a small, uncomfortable seat, most of them having five gears from fast to insane. The paneling was, of course, in Bek colors, and the gang’s symbol was proudly displayed on the hood.

He’d been on swoops before, when he was younger and stupider, but never on a racing model like this one. Even though he was old enough to know better, there was still a fighter-jock part of him that itched to hop on and see if they lived up to their wicked reputation.

Kairi’s small hand brushed the side of hers, scowling slightly. He knew her well enough by now; she was futilely trying to remember if she had ever ridden one of these.

“Kairi, you don’t have to. If you don’t think you can…” He dropped his voice. “Zelka told me about the pain. If you tire yourself out or push too hard...”

She accepted a racing helmet from the Ithorian mechanic and heavily put it on the seat. “I have no way to know. All I can focus on is the next action, the next step we must take, the next bend in the road. Anything at all beyond _next_ , and…” She shuddered, and took the helmet again. Putting it on her head, she swung onto the bike’s seat and fastened the harness.

Carth put his own helmet on. It was too easy to forget that Kairi was more lost than he was.

Her hands danced across the controls. What else could she say? Half them time, she felt like she was trapped in a waking dream. Nothing felt real, and she was not in control of her own body or reflexes. The past was a void, the future was a gray nothingness. Only the moment, and the next moment…that’s why she willingly surrendered to the trance-like state that came, relinquishing conscious control of her body to some forgotten knowledge.

_3…2…1…_

If she stopped to think, she would falter. If she faltered, she would die.

_Go!_

She kicked the foot control on the swoop, weaving through the obstacles. Carth was parallel to her for most of the race, and they barely avoided colliding. He was just about to overtake her when a pop-up wall activated in front of them. They veered opposite directions to evade the obstacle in their path, and Kairi recovered a split second faster to hit an accelerator pad and boost her swoop into a higher gear. Carth was right on her heels, and Kairi had to hunch over and ride harder. She almost jumped when she hit the accelerator pad, trusting the swoop, looking for obstacles ahead.

 _The swoop wants to go fast. It wants the accelerator pads. It doesn’t want the obstacles…_ She just had to trust it to do so.

She kicked it up into the highest gear. If she were not in such a trance-like state, she would have shrieked or become frightened. The disconnect put that fear far away as the path of changing obstacles and accelerator pads sped past her. She was aware of going quickly, but could see and anticipate the obstacles just as easily at this speed as she could at the lowest.

She crossed the finish line and the swoop spent another half-lap around the track to slow to a halt. Kairi sat at the controls, not daring to move, and not aware for several seconds that she had stopped.

“Kairi?” Carth’s voice. Just as it so often had, it pulled her back to reality. Shakily, she unbuckled the harness and let him and the Bek’s Ithorian mechanic help her down.

“I’m surprised I made it through in one piece!” she exclaimed.

“And beat my time by a full second!” Carth said with amazement. “I’m starting to wonder if there’s anything you can’t do!”

She glanced back at the swoop. “I’m starting to wonder that myself.” But there wasn’t any amazement in her statement – just fear.

* * *

The Taris swoop track was in a sector of the Lower City far removed from the main streets that Kairi and Carth had traveled. The track itself was an old transit tunnel, and the audience watched on monitors via cameras attached to the swoop's cockpit, giving a racer's eye view of the action. Another set of cameras focused on the swoop pits where a Duros sat at a desk in the middle, announcing the race. Various computers in the stands translated the announcements to Basic or other common languages.

As to the rules, each player raced a maximum of five heats, and at the end of the night, the winner was the racer with the fastest time. The only others were; dodge the obstacles, hit the accelerator pads and hang on for dear life.

The prizes were plentiful. The Beks had put up a top quality set of Echani-style armor. One of the smaller gangs put in five hundred credits, another minor gang put up a case full of fine Corellian brandy. There was even a prize from Davik—an elegant set of energy shields.

Kairi was only interested in one prize, though. The Vulkar contribution to the pot was rolled out next to the race announcer's desk. Two large men guarded the cage and the woman inside. She'd been put in an outfit fit for a prostitute, and she looked like she'd been weakened by her treatment. Worse, a neural disruptor collar was clamped tight around her neck.

Kairi sneaked up to the rear of the cage. "Bastila?"

From underneath her long, light brown hair, a blue-gray eye cracked open and looked at her. The disruptor collar would make it hard for her to think, much less use any Force powers she may have had.

"Hey!" one of the guards shouted. "No one gets near the merchandise until after the race!"

Kairi backed off, more from a cold feeling of déjà vu than from the Vulkar guard.

Opening ceremonies were elaborate, a march of gang colors and banners, presentation of the prizes and praise to the gang leaders. Swoop races were a matter of great ceremony to the Lower City.

As Kairi and the Beks’ mechanic made last-minute adjustments to the bike, a Rodian racer named Doba came by to watch. He was dressed in the bright yellow of the Demons, a primarily Rodian gang currently allied with the Vulkars. << _"Hey, look at this; fresh meat on the track. And Bek colors, too. Gadon must be desperate if he is taking first timers off the street!" >> _

Kairi looked up, raising her racing goggles. "Do you know what the time to beat is?"

_< <"Thirty-eight seconds, rookie. And we've already had one rider that has crashed and died on the tracks. Don't get your hopes up. No first timer ever WINS the season opener. Most of them just die in it.">>_

"I've no intentions of dying today," she answered simply.

_< <"Vulkars put in Redros. He's the champion—best there is. When the Vulkars beat you all, then it'll be over for Gadon and his old ways. Vulkars savage and strong. Vulkars better!">>_

"Savage doesn't necessarily mean strong," Kairi said, picking up her helmet. “Those who know their strength needn’t go around trying to prove it.”

On the way out, a leather-skinned alien in a flashy speedsuit of Vulkar orange shoved her. He spoke Basic with a thick, growling accent. "What is this tiny human FEMALE in Bek colors? Beks must be scraping the barrel. Give a stupid person a helmet and you think you're a racer."

"Redros, I presume," she said. Digging the knife a little further, she added. "I heard you Vulkars need to work on security."

"Beks hire mercenaries. They were too cowardly to send their members against us. No Bek could stand up to us!"

She buckled on her helmet as her swoop was towed to the track. "Certain about that?"

Buckled in the tight cockpit, Kairi reached down and gave a final test of the controls. Too much – literal and figurative – was riding on her swoop.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and chased the void. Disconnect from herself, allow the void within her to take control…

_There is no salvation. There is oblivion. The goal must remain._

3...2...1...

GO!

Her swoop took off like a cannon shot, and Kairi held on. Narrowly sweeping past an obstacle, she hit one of the pads as she shifted to second.

The kick from it was amazing! Dodge, hit pad, dodge, dodge, shift...Strangely enough, there was no fear this time. It was almost like when she was playing Pazaak against Niklos, like she was indulging in a fun pastime, instead of risking her life.

_Find the patterns, see the patterns, and then follow the patterns._

At fifth gear, the world turned into one gray blur. Dodge, dodge, hit pad, dodge. She swerved past an obstacle, but the swoop behind her was not so lucky, crashing into it head-on., and practically vaporizing on impact.

She breathed, and the track seemed to slow, picoseconds dilating in her perceptions. She knew which obstacles would rise, could see the timing and the patterns behind the layout of the accelerator pads.

She hit the gravity field at the finish line that slowed her bike to a stop, and halt the wild ride. She was grinning like a fool when she stepped off. Her heart raced, her body tingled. Oh, she wanted to do that again!

_< <"And Kairi Niko of the Hidden Beks beats Redros's time_ _—_ _thirty-five and a half seconds!" >>_ said the announcer.

The Bek riders cheered, jumping up and down and making gestures of approval. An Aqualish named Phirk patted her on the back. << _"Incredible. It's not just the accelerator! I've never seen a rookie handle a bike like that!" >>_

Anglu, a Twi'lek racer from the Double Blades, a Bek ally, also seemed impressed. <<" _I was sure you would die on the track, but to see you out there was amazing! I hope Redros learned his lesson!" >>_

Tuula rushed up to her. << _"You did it, Kairi Niko. You have the top time! You beat racers who have been doing this their whole lives! Someone who's never ridden a swoop before..." >>_

Kairi couldn't be certain if she had or not. Either way, the experience was something she'd not soon forget.

The second round of races brought the numbers down to ten—three forfeiting, three crashing (one sustaining fatal injuries), and four in the finals. Redros and Kairi's times became the talk of the track.

_< <"And Redros of the Black Vulkars posts a record-setting thirty-two seconds!">> _announced the Duros. "We have not had a race like this in twenty years!"

<<" _Even with the accelerator,_ ">> said Tuula, << _"You may not beat that. And the swoop is getting unstable. It's risky to try another lap." >>_

"I have to try, Tuula," she said. "Otherwise the Vulkars win it all—including Bastila's life, and destruction of the Beks. I know what's riding on my swoop. If I don't make it...then maybe one of the others can."

_< <"You wear the Bek colors with pride, human. I will pray to the great Gods of flight for you as you go on the tracks.">>_

"Thank you, Tuula."

She was strapped in again, but feeling a bit less of the exhilaration she did last time. She'd make history or die trying. The countdown began, and Kairi forced herself to clear her mind. The race was the only thing in the universe right now, and everything would go into it…

First gear…

She swung wide to hit the first pad, throwing her forward with a sickening lurch of speed. She dodged an obstacle and quickly pulled up to avoid the remains of a less fortunate swoop.

Second gear.

Dodge, dodge, hit pad…

Third gear…

Swerve, hit pad, and swerve.

Fourth gear…

CRASH! She glanced off the side of a debris pile and the swoop started to shake. It was barely controllable, and the gauges were flashing warnings…

In the audience, Mission turned away, unable to look, while Carth couldn't prevent himself from looking. Zaalbar let out a groan of dismay.

In the cage, a surge of willpower from Bastila and the fasteners on the collar started to come loose with a little telekinesis.

On the track, Kairi swore and decided to risk it.

Fifth gear.

Flames and smoke burst from the back, and the track rushed by at a blur. The swoop was shaking, the alarms were blaring. A piece of paneling sheared off and soared backwards. The swoop was falling apart, but the end of the line was so close…

Kairi took the chance.

She swerved right, hit the pad and let it push her further. The engines belched fire and the left one let out a tremendous boom. The swoop hit the gravity field at the end of the course, and what was left of it slowed drastically. She pulled one of the cockpit's pins and the other snapped away. The cockpit shot backwards and the engines blasted forward, hitting the wall and bursting into flames. The metal plate underneath her shrieked and threw off sparks before it spun into a wall, severing the safety harness and allowing her to roll away.

In the cage, the clasp had come undone, and Bastila's hand reached up, pulling it off her neck and dropping it to the ground…

Carth put a hand on Mission's shoulder. Zaalbar straightened, closing his eyes and starting to say a prayer to the gods in his native tongue…

And out from the tunnel, walked Kairi Niko, taking off her helmet and smiling to the awestruck crowd. A cheer burst from them, loud and approving.

_< <"Kairi Niko crosses the finish line, so the referees say it counts! Twenty-six seconds! There has never been a time like that—ever! Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the winner of the Taris Lower City swoop race...Kairi Niko of the Hidden Beks!">>_

Kairi bowed graciously.

Brejik, however, was not very gracious. He shoved the Duros announcer from his seat and threw him aside.

"Hear me, all of you! The Beks cheated—they used a non-member as their rider, and used a prototype accelerator! Unfair advantages!"

One of the smaller gang leaders, a Twi'lek man, made a gesture of contempt. "Shut up, Brejik. There is no rules against what Gadon did."

"They stole that accelerator from us!"

"You're a liar, Brejik!" Kairi said. "The Beks invented that prototype, and your gang attempted to steal it!"

Mutters abounded. The situation was tense. It was broken by a voice from the back, the words spoken in Twi'lek.

_< <"Kairi Niko speaks the truth! The Black Vulkars have dishonored themselves!">> _It was Tal, the old Vulkar gang member Kairi had refused to kill back at the base. He jumped into the swoop pit and charged right up to Brejik.

"Tal...I will not abide this insult!"

_< <"Your insult was killing off the old members, the slaughter in the streets, and your cowardly behavior! I have been a Vulkar for twenty years...when it had honor. You have no honor. Kairi Niko and the Beks not only won the race fairly, they surpassed your theft and dishonor in order to do so!">>_

Brejik turned to his Vulkars. "We spit on this sham and withdraw our share of the prize!"

The gathered members gasped. The Duros announcer was stunned. << _"That...that is just not done. It violates all of our codes and traditions." >>_

"Curse them," Brejik spat. "They mean nothing. Hear me—this prisoner is far more than a mere ‘Republic officer!” He pulled a cylindrical metal piece from his jacket. Once in the spotlight, it was clearly a lightsaber. “This prisoner is a Jedi! Her bounty from the Sith will allow me to - !”

Brejik’s hand jerked of its own accord. The lock on the cage snapped apart, the door flying and hitting one of the Vulkar guards. Bastila stepped forward. Throwing out a hand, a Vulkar guard flew backwards! Brejik lost his grip on the lightsaber,and it sailed into her hand, two bright yellow blades flaring from its ends. "Oh, I think I have something to say about that..."

"How...how...?" Brejik was stunned enough to quit his ranting. Kairi had already pulled out her sword and run up to Bastila's side.

"You underestimate the strength of a Jedi's mind, Brejik. And it's going to be your last mistake."

"Vulkars—to me! Kill the woman! Kill the Bek's rider! Kill them all!"

The scene quickly turned to chaos. All-out war broke out in the pits, the audience...everywhere. And most of the attacking was against the Vulkars! The smaller gangs started fighting along with the Beks!

Kairi pulled her sword and guarded Bastila's back as the two plowed their way through the Vulkars in the pit areas, racing for the exits. "Maybe those bloody Vulkars will think twice before trying to keep a Jedi in chains. And as for you, if you think you can collect me as a prize…"

Kairi didn't know what to say—between recognizing Bastila's face from the dream, and this strange attitude of hers…

"Wait..." Bastila looked closely at Kairi's face. "I don't believe this...you…"

"Bastila, right?" Kairi said hesitantly, feeling like an utter fool. "I'm Kairi Niko. Well, I was the aide you brought aboard the _Spire_."

"I know who you are, _Kairi_ _ana_ , just..." Now it was her turn to seem a little stunned. "However did you wind up racing for some swoop gang?"

"It's a long story, and no time to explain it now."

Several Vulkars blocked their way to the audience areas, shock-sticks drawn. Brejik had a badly-wounded Tal shoved against the wall.

"I'll show you...humiliating me in public!" Brejik roared, picking up his knife and preparing to run Tal through.

"Brejik!" Kairi shouted. "Let him be."

Brejik turned, hatred twisting his face. "You little shutta! You cost me EVERYTHING!"

"A thief has no right to complain when he's been robbed," quipped Bastila. "Now, Brejik, let the man go."

Three shots from the back felled Brejik's guards. It distracted Brejik long enough for Tal to palm a dagger from his sleeve, and use his last bit of strength to jam it through Brejik's throat.

_< <"Vulkars of old...we've been avenged...">>_

Tal and Brejk slumped to the floor—dead.

Carth, Mission and Zaalbar came down the steps. "Bastila! You're all right! Finally, things are looking up." Carth rushed to her. "Come on."

"Commander Carth Onasi...you're alive? Well, that's good news. As far as rescues go, this has got to be one of the worst examples."

Mission shrugged. "I didn't see you doing any better."

Bastila gaped at her. "I got out of those restraints without your help, thank you VERY much. And you're lucky I helped with that fight. They would have killed you otherwise. It's more accurate to say I saved you."

"You can argue it to the Sith if we don't get the hell out of here," Carth said. "Mission we need the fastest route to the hideout – hurry!"

  
  



	7. The Ebon Hawk

** Chapter 5 **

****

** The Ebon Hawk **

After they fled the swoop track, Gadon had met them a short distance away in a speeder and whisked them off to the Bek base. From there, it was a great celebration. Brejik's behavior had been the proverbial nail in the coffin. The Vulkars scattered, and the Beks took home the prizes. While most of the spoils were cheerfully divided up among the gang, the winner's share had amounted to nearly a thousand credits and several useful items. Gadon insisted that Kairi take the Echani armor, too. It hadn't been a coincidence that it had been made small enough to fit her. They returned to their hideout to plot their next move, and things degenerated quickly.

"You don't have a plan to get off Taris yet?" Bastila threw up her hands. "What have you been doing all this time?"

"Trying to find and save you, remember?" Carth was getting quite close to losing his temper at Bastila as she paraded around the hideout. "I'm getting a little sick of your attitude—Jedi or not."

Kairi envied Zaalbar, who was curled up against the wall, fast asleep. She had found a corner of the increasingly cramped apartment, behind the panel that made an improvised mirror. When she could focus on something else – the next task, the next plan, the next emergency – she could ignore the small things like the tingling pain in her feet or the stiffness in her hands – nerve damage, Zelka said. It had a tendency to come and go; sometimes so mild it could be completely ignored. Often, it was like a dull ache that was she was always just barely aware of. However, it became worse with fatigue. Already bruised and taxed from the swoop race and the exertion of the post-victory brawl and post-brawl celebrations, she badly needed _rest._

She had thought recovering Bastila (not “rescue,” Bastila was insistent about terminology) would improve the situation. After all, her employer was no longer in a gang’s custody and wasn’t a Sith prisoner. Kairi would have liked the chance to ask Bastila for any information that would help fill in the blank holes of her memory, or at least clarify _something_. Instead, Carth and Bastila resumed what was no doubt a preexisting argument over mission jurisdiction and which of them was actually in charge. Carth and Bastila’s bickering not only made rest near impossible, but their conflict was almost like listening to high-volume feedback on a cheap sound system. Every sharp barb and sarcastic jab made her skin crawl and her fingertips tingle painfully. If they could not decide, then someone would have to make the decision for them.

"You seem to forget that I'm in charge of this mission, Commander Onasi. I am a member of the Order, and was put in command of this. Don't forget that."

"A Jedi operation carried out _in coordination_ with the Republic Fleet. You have a lot to learn about leadership, Bastila. A leader doesn't go in and start berating her troops just because things aren't going to plan, and a leader doesn't let her ego obscure the real issues."

Kairi shifted her aching legs again and cracked open an eye. Mission was glumly trying to play a solitaire valiant of Pazaak in the opposite corner. The look on her face said it all; _We gotta get out of here._

Bastila’s sharp Mid Rim accent felt like daggers on her ears. "Without my Battle Meditation, the Republic would have lost this war already."

"Your gifts might win us a few battles, but that doesn't make you a leader! Another hint; take advice from your troops, especially ones who've seen more combat than you ever will!"

Kairi stepped out from behind her cover. "Both of you, please...this isn't helping."

"Beat me to it, Kairi," Mission said. She patted Kairi on the back. "Hey, I'm no expert on humans, but you look like a droid on low power. Something wrong?"

"Just sore," she said with a wan smile. "If it's all right with you, I'd like to take a walk. Maybe fresh air will help. Mission, can you come with me so I don’t get lost?” She looked pointedly at Carth and Bastila. “In the meantime? Draw lots, play Pazaak, or flip a coin; I do not care. But by the time Mission and I come back, this argument is to be _settled_. This isn’t getting us any closer to an escape."

Kairi and Mission left the apartment.

Carth sat heavily in the nearest chair. "She’s right. We can't get hung up on who's in charge if we want to get out of here. We'll have to work together on this."

"I suppose she does have a point. I've already been a prisoner of a gang, and I'm not keen on becoming a prisoner of the Sith. You had a good idea about the cantinas earlier; they're usually overrun with smugglers, and we might find one who can break the blockade..." Bastila's voice trailed off, and she stared at the door for a long time.

"What's on your mind?" Carth asked. "Or am I not allowed to know?”

Bastila shook her head. "Forgive me, Commander. Despite my training, I still act too rashly sometimes."

"Hey, we’re off the ship, so you don't have to call me by rank. Just 'Carth' will do."

She looked from the door, to him, and back, as if weighing something in her head. "What can you tell me about Kairiana?"

"Me? You hired her, shouldn't you know more about her?” Carth pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was hoping you could give us some answers. Even she can't tell me much about herself. There was a plasma explosion on the _Spire_. I've seen those fry a man's nervous system. She shoved me out of the way and took the hit. Hell, I'm surprised she's alive at all."

"I see, and it caused her to lose her memory? All of her memory?"

"That's right. Even took her to a doctor here in the Upper City. According to him, she probably won't ever recover the memories. I’ll dig out the medical report if you want. Thing that gets me, though? You'd think she'd be really bothered about not being able to remember who she is, but...well, I think she's more worried about everyone else."

"I had little to do with her actual hire. Kairiana was brought aboard because she speaks at least forty galactic languages, five of which are not programmed into standard protocol droids. I didn't really she would be able to...Well, I shall have to watch her carefully."

"She...seems to know how to get under someone's skin..." He shot a glance over to Bastila. "She's pried things out of me that I thought I'd never tell anyone."

Bastila smiled wryly. "Certain it's not her feminine wiles?"

"Not just me, Bastila. I've seen her pry things out of gang leaders, Outcasts, even this Mandalorian the local crime boss put on payroll. She even played this Pazaak shark in the Cantina to a standstill...I think she could charm credits out of a Hutt."

Bastila scowled slightly. "And she usually fights with that vibroblade?"

"Like she was born with one in her hand!" Folding his arms, he looked at her skeptically. “Blaster, not so much. Look, whatever ‘official’ story you have? It’s blown. The file’s all we have, and I’d bet my blasters it’s a fake. My best guess is that she was SIS or Service Corps. Either way, someone has to know who she really is so she can get help.”

"She manifested none of these things when she was with me on the _Spire_. Yes, she had basic weapons training..."

"Basic? Bantha pile!"

"Carth, language!"

"That lady's better with a vibroblade than the Echani mercs the Republic hired to _teach_ melee combat! And I know she isn't lying to me -"

"Are you so sure about that?"

It was a crude tactic, but it worked. "Damn you, anyway."

Bastila sighed. "I'd like to talk with her in private. Maybe it will...clarify matters when it comes to her.”

* * *

Mission promised to take Kairi to the best spot in the Upper City to watch the sunset. It was part of the Maze, a daredevil climb on rusted ladders and makeshift ledges. Kairi's bruised muscles still shrieked and her fingertips sent the odd jolt of pain up her arm, causing her to be slow on the climb, but she welcomed the pain somewhat. It brought her back to the present.

Mission helped Kairi up the last couple rungs. They were sitting on the viewing deck of a very old and mostly abandoned building. In Taris's heyday, this must have been a popular tourist attraction. Now, the stone benches sat empty, and the view scopes had been corroded by rust and age, their lenses opaque. The sunset cast an incredible orange-rose glow over the faded city, almost restoring it to the beauty it must have been.

"I haven't come here since Griff left. Big Z is too big and heavy to get up here, and it's just too pretty to come here alone. Things like this...they gotta be shared." Mission idly kicked aside a pebble to sit down. "I'm sorry about getting snappish with you earlier. Guess I'm still a little touchy when it comes to him.”

Kairi held up her hand. "If you don't want to tell me about it, that's fine."

"No, it's okay. Zaalbar's a good listener, but it might be nice to talk about this to someone who doesn't respond in growls and grunts. Griff...well, he raised me. Taught me must everything I knew – how to slice computers, pick locks, spot a wealthy mark for a quick shell game...he did right by me."

_Those skills that make the child a useful ally and tool. She will have little use once you leave Taris, however._ That coldly analytical part of her whispered. Kairi shook her head to dismiss the thought. No, Mission had helped too much and asked for so little already.

Mission continued speaking. "Yeah. I remember how we got to Taris. I was only five. We had to smuggle ourselves here in a packing crate. Griff owed the wrong people money. Maybe there was a warrant out for him, too. He gambled, drank, and was always in debt because he would borrow money for some get-rich quick idea that didn’t pan out. But that just makes him sound worse than he is." She sighed. "I really miss him. He said he'd be back for me someday."

"Why did he leave?"

Mission shook her head. "Lena's the reason why. She worked at Javier's Cantina as a dancer. Well, Griff could be a real smooth talker, and soon those two were dating. Lena was used to dating guys like bounty hunters or gamblers. Guys with tons of credits. That table-dancing tramp gets her hooks on him, and off he went, leaving me behind!"

"That...doesn't sound like a very brotherly thing to do."

Mission shrugged. "Show him a pretty set of head-tails, and he's done for. It wasn't too long after he left that I met Zaalbar, though."

They stared off into the sunset in silence until the sun slipped behind the skyline and the skies began to turn purple.

“I’m sorry Bastila turned out to be such a stuck up _shutta_. I know you must have had a ton of questions to ask her.”

Kairi shook her head. “Bastila is...difficult to try and understand. I think she wants it to be that way. It’s just another dead end.” Trying to stuff down the disappointment, she looked out over the vastness of the city, trying to put together the words to express it. “I suppose I should just accept that anything before the _Spire_ is lost. That is…disappointing, but expected.”

"What's it like, Kairi? Not...not having a past?"

Kairi stared into the fading light. "It's...it's seeing everything like it was the first time. It's knowing things, but not _how_ you know them. And when I try to remember anything that happened...it's like being at the edge of a pit where you can't see the bottom." She looked over at Mission. "It's...safer to just live in the present, rather than try to jump in that pit."

She seemed to understand that. "The present is a good place to live. Hey, you're still a great person, Kairi.” Mission reached out and put her hand on Kairi’s back. “You and Carth have got to be some the best humans I've ever run into. Most humans just assume that because I have a set of _lekku,_ that I don't have any brains."

Kairi jerked up from the touch, feeling a flash of anger and impulse to lash out at Mission for touching her without asking. Just as quickly, the impulse faded, leaving her confused. Carth touched her because it was part of his desire to protect. Mission was just trying to…

Trying to what?

_It would be easier if you wanted something from me, wanted me to be something for you, but you don’t. There is nothing hidden with you._ She was even less guarded with her emotions and intentions than Carth was, and it ran counter to all her instincts.

It felt _good._

Kairi mirrored Mission’s gesture, putting her hand between the girl’s shoulders. "Another good thing about no memory; no preconceptions."

They sat there for some time, watching as the sun slipped behind the thick tangle of buildings. Kairi found herself relaxing, almost dozing off, in Mission’s simple and open company. Mission, Zaalbar, Carth...they knew less about her than she knew about herself and they still cared for her.

_As you are influencing them, they are influencing you in turn._ How...strange.

Mission broke the silence and Kairi’s reverie, helping her to her feet. "C'mon, we'd better head back before it gets too dark, and Big Z starts wondering where we went. He can be SUCH a worry-wart sometimes!"

When they reached the Upper City walkway on the way home, they were approached by a green-skinned Twi'lek man.

"You there, human. You are the rider who won the Great Swoop Race. I was told to deliver a message to you. Take this datapad, please."

She nodded and took it, and the Twi'lek man vanished into the Maze. The datapad was a cheap, disposable model. On it, was a brief message:

_Miss Niko,_

_You know I've been watching you already. That swoop race was the last bit of convincing I needed. I have a job that could get us off-planet. Meet me in the Upper City Cantina at the tenth hour. Don't keep me waiting._

_\- Canderous_

* * *

She brought the datapad to the others at the hideout, and there was minimal arguing when they agreed to check it out. They found some clothing to try and make Bastila look like an ordinary spacer; she and Carth insisted on joining Kairi at the meeting with Canderous. Under the circumstances, she wasn’t about to argue.

The Upper City Cantina never seemed to have a slow hour. It was just as busy at midday as when she had visited in the evening several days earlier. Sure enough, Canderous was waiting for her at a table, nodding when she made eye contact. Carth and Bastila walked to a table just out of earshot. Canderous no doubt noticed this but said nothing.

She slid into the chair. "How is your arm?"

A chuckle from him. "You certainly are a strange one. Cut down a half-dozen Vulkars with barely an eye blink, but the first thing you ask is about a stranger's health." He looked up. "It's healed nicely. Now, I saw you in the swoop race. Very impressive. You seem like you know how get results. That's just the kind of person I'm looking for."

Kairi straightened. "Is that why you were watching me, Mister...?"

"Canderous Ordo is my name. And call it friendly interest. There aren't a lot of people on Taris that get my attention—but you certainly did. Now, I think I have a deal for you, Miss Niko. One you'd be interested in."

"Well, I'm listening."

"You already know I work for Davik. The hours aren't great, and I've nothing better to do. Davik promised me a fortune, and Mandalorian mercs are in high demand."

Kairi leaned in, switching to Mando’a. _< <"He's cheating you.">>_

Canderous seemed impressed. _< <Good idea. Haven’t found a fluent speaker in two years on this hell-world. Your friends likely don’t know the tongue, do they?”>>_ Noting Kairi’s shrug, he continued. _< <”You're right. He's not paying what he promised. Job is killing my mind. Time to get off planet.">>_

_< <"It's true, then? Davik has a ship that's fast enough.">>_

_< <"Yes. He doesn't have is the launch codes to get past the Sith auto-targeting lasers. That's where you’re needed">>_

_< <"I'm listening.">>_

_< <"I have a plan, but I can't be the one raiding Sith military base. It would be traced right back to Davik. More trouble than he wants.. Anyone crazy enough to poke rakghoul nests and race Gadon’s crazy experiment in the Big Race might just be crazy enough to get those codes, though. You get codes, I provide ship. That Republic man you've got probably is a half-decent pilot.">>_

_< <"He's a rather good one.">>_

_< <"A good Republic pilot is only half-decent,">> _Canderous said. He took a long drink from his beer, sparing a glance and the ghost of a smirk at Carth and Bastila before switching back to Basic. "Anyway, you get those codes, and I can get you the _Ebon Hawk_. We all get off this planet together."

Kairi didn't believe him to be lying. "Sounds fair. How am I to get in the base?"

Canderous smiled. "Janice Nall has a special droid she's making just for that purpose. It'll slice Sith security and get you in. Davik paid for the droid, but I'm the one he put in charge of this job. He won't care how we get those codes.”

"So, I steal the codes, you get me to the ship. We steal the ship and we all get off Taris."

Folding his arms, he nodded.

"It's a deal."

"This authorizes you to pick up the droid," he said, handing her a datachip. "I'll be waiting for you at Javyar's in the Lower City—fifty hours from now. Have those codes, and I'll get you the ship."

The droid shop owner was a Twi'lek woman who was dressed in technician's coveralls, aside from the velvet scarves she wrapped around her head-tails, the subtle colors and soft fabric both eye-catching and indicative of someone that could do well with modest resources. Upon seeing them, she stopped working on the small droid she had on the floor and smiled broadly.

_< <"A customer? Come in, come in! I'm Janice Nall. Welcome to my droid shop!">>_

"We're interested in a utility droid." Kairi handed over the datachip. "Canderous sent us."

_< <"Yes, indeed. And with the payment in advance. These codes check out. I hope Davik appreciates him!">>_

She opened the door to the back room that passed as a "showroom," though it most often was used for repairing the droids that came into her store. _< <"Customers are hard to come by sometimes. A lot of Upper Taris citizens won't come shop here, not at a store owned by a Twi'lek.">>_

Mission rolled her eyes. "Ain't that the truth!"

"What is it that they have against Twi'leks, anyway?" Kairi was having trouble understanding the Upper City. She might not remember much, but she did know what got on her nerves. It was wasteful to discard talent, regardless of species. 

_< <"Twi'leks are tolerated in the Upper City, but they'd rather see us dancing in cantinas than owning successful businesses. I've learned not to dwell on it. I just stay focused on running my store.">>_

"You'd think people would be a little more tolerant in this day and age." Carth sighed. "Guess stupidity and ignorance will never go out of style."

Janice motioned them to follow, and walked up to the droid in the center of the shop. A meter high at the tallest, it had a dish-shape head and a triangular body. A single photoelectric "eye" was in the middle of its head. The silver-colored plating was lovingly polished. As it moved along on its tracks, it whirred smoothly, a sign of careful maintenance and fastidious craftsmanship.

_< <"This is T3-M4. He's small, tough, and has a surprising amount of firepower!">>_ She beamed proudly. _< <"And there's no better security slicer or code breaker on the planet...not that I condone anything illegal, of course.">>_

"Of course," Kairi said. "And he's certainly a handsome little fellow."

In response, TeeThree chirped and beeped, his chrome "head" looking up at her.

_< <"And he likes you, too.">>_ Janice patted TeeThree and smiled. _< <"Droids are very temperamental sometimes – like children. They're all very unique, too. Programming and memory wipes can alter it somewhat, but at the core, their personality doesn't change. It's why I like them so much.">>_

* * *

They got the droid home and Kairi inserted the datachip. Contained on it were schematics and a shift schedule for the nearby Sith base. They were all looking over the readouts, trying to find the weak points they could strike. 

Bastila shifted position in her chair. She hated all of this, really. It wasn't the danger, so much. A Jedi's life was often filled with danger; enough for several lifetimes. She'd also been on strike teams, including the one that took down Revan. Yet, staking their lives on a deal made with a Mandalorian mercenary out to betray his employer? Trusting an adolescent Twi'lek with such a monumental task?

_Zaalbar and his people’s ‘life debt’ custom caused this complication._ Bastila reminded herself. _Mission would have to go where he did for her own safety. Yet now, it means these innocents have been caught up in matters they cannot understand._

There was also Kairi herself. What she had taken aboard the _Spire_ was a diplomatic aide without combat or tactical experience. _I didn’t know much about her when I took her aboard. At the very least, I did not know her nearly as well as I believed I did._

"You'd think that Mandalorian was setting up a damn trap," Carth said.

"More like a test.” Kairi sat cross-legged on the floor. "He wants to see if we can do it as much as he wants those codes."

"Confirming my theory that Mandalorians are crazy."

"Actually, it surprises me how solid his plan is," Bastila said. "And I sensed no deception from him while Kairi was talking. He likely didn’t realize that my Jedi training allowed me to understand him. He does need our help, and it may indeed be the only way off the planet."

Kairi pointed to an apartment space built into the base’s top floor “Chances are, the codes would be in the governor's private quarters. As commander of the base, he would be the one authorizing ships to land and depart.”

“And he has a private hangar, it seems,” Bastila pointed out. “The administration level would be easy to access from the roof. They must have converted a preexisting building in haste as it lacks the usual security measures. The only problem would be transporting T3-M4.”

“Hold on, you go waltzing in there, and you'll be up to your eyeballs in Sith guards,” Carth said. “And the only thing you'll get is a nasty death. The droid's programmed to head in the front doors. Between that and the security papers, we could probably bluff our way to a terminal. We get TeeThree to slice it, and we could get the codes and get out before anyone discovers us.”

“You know the Sith, Carth,” Bastila countered. “Anything of true value won't be accessible on a common terminal. The governor would be the only one likely to have them.”

“Both of you have a point, and we have enough people to try both plans,” Kairi pointed out. “Carth, if you took Zaalbar and TeeThree through the front entrance, your plan could work. Even if you can't get the codes, you could certainly cause a distraction. Bastila, TeeThree can't climb down from the roof, but Mission can.”

“I've sliced Sith systems before.” Mission said. “Elevator systems and building access codes, mostly. They're tough, but I can handle it.”

“Mission, this is quite dangerous,” Bastila said.

Kairi raised her hand. “Dangerous, yes, but she has been invaluable. We wouldn't be having this conversation without her help.”

Mission blinked twice, as though uncertain she heard that. Then, she started smiling. Kairi's eyes narrowed. “But, Mission. This is not some errand for the Beks or adventure in the Undercity. With this, you will be taking on something much larger and infinitely more dangerous.”

She stood up. “I made my choice, Kairi. I'm with you.”

“Then you and Zaalbar pack up your things and get some rest. If our plan succeeds, we’ll have to leave Taris quickly and won’t be able to return – at least not for a very long time.”

Mission briefly looked disturbed by that, but covered it quickly. “You get some rest too, Kairi, okay?”

Mission and Zaalbar went to their corner. Carth trudged off to his makeshift bedroll. Kairi, exhaustion amplifying the sharp pins-and-needles pain in her fingers and feet, slowly pulled herself off the floor. She miscalculated and started to stumble, only to have Bastila rush over with unnatural speed and grab her shoulders, preventing her from falling backward.

“I’ve got you.”

Like she had before in the Bek base, memory and emotion rushed at her in a sudden, incomprehensible burst.

_The ozone stench hiss of a lightsaber...The feeling of drowning…A place of quiet. Not quite unlike Zelka’s medcenter. She was sitting at a table and Bastila was humming some unknown tune while she brushed out Kairi’s hair..._

Bastila had her arms around Kairi’s chest, and Kairi realized she was shaking.

“I know you must be exhausted. Just breathe. That’s it…”

She wasn’t sure whether to pull away or lean in closer, but she didn’t have the strength to do either. The burst of memory was gone again. “I know you.”

Bastila stroked Kairi’s back. “Of course you do. We spent many hours together on the _Endar Spire_. You were my aide. Our quarters were even right next to one another with a door to separate them. Don’t you remember? Ensign Ulgo would come in with that day’s paperwork...”

She looked up and searched Bastila’s eyes, trying hard to pull the memory back, but there was nothing more. This was completely lacking in dignity. Bastila was her employer, a Jedi who was far too important to debase herself like this. So why did this feel...familiar? “You gave me the hair tie.”

“Yes, I did,” Bastila said. “Do you remember anything else?”

Kairi shook her head. 

“I read the report Carth got from Doctor Forn. I didn’t want it to be true,” Bastila said. “How much do you remember after you woke up here?”

“Everything.”

“Well, that’s good. If you remember anything from before the attack on the _Spire_ , no matter how small, you tell me, all right?” 

“I should not trouble you.”

“It is not troubling me. You are my charge. It is your duty to assist me, and it is my duty to watch you.” Bastila explained, guiding her to a chair and pouring her into it. “Stay there. I’ll see if I can improvise a bed.”

Kairi sniffed. Not like she had much of a choice. It was like her feet refused to work.

Bastila took a stuffed some unused clothing into a sack. “I'd like to know what happened, though. Between you and Carth crashing on Taris and you finding me. I doubt there were flashing signs pointing in my direction."

Kairi shrugged, too tired to make a reply.

"You also avoided detection by the Sith, discovered I was a Vulkar prisoner, gained the support of their rivals, and became Taris's swoop champion. Quite the list of accomplishments."

"I did very little, Bastila. Carth was there, as was Mission and Zaalbar. It was the Hidden Beks' swoop bike; they let us know you were captured. You took out more Vulkars than I did. All I did was trust my instincts and the people around me," Kairi said

“Yes,“ Bastila said. "I did talk to the others, and they all confirm that while they had a role, you were the catalyst, taking command when there was a dispute among them."

Kairi pulled the jacket over her aching shoulders, suddenly understanding the reluctance Carth, Mission, and Zaalbar had towards what seemed like innocent conversation topics. It was a lot easier asking questions than answering them.

Bastila shook her head. "Kairi, I took you on for your skill at languages, and none of us could have expected so much from you. It...it would take a Jedi, drawing heavily upon the Force, in order to get this far this fast."

She didn’t know why, but Bastila’s talk of “the Force” caused her to shudder. Maybe this ‘Force’ was that small but constant voice in her head constantly making ruthless suggestions. _Is that why I was able to drive the swoop? Where I learned to handle that knife? Why I survived the plasma shock?_

Bastila shook her head. “Perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself. Between my Jedi training, and the skills of our companions, we might just find a way out of this mess."

* * *

They decided they would strike in the middle of the night, when there were the fewest personnel on duty. That left them time to use their earnings from the swoop race to gather supplies.

Stealth belts were a favorite among thieves, and illegal on most planets unless one had a license. This, of course, meant that the Lower City's black market had plenty in stock. A stealth field warped light and sound in a field around their wearers, cloaking them and making them quite hard to detect.

Engaging the belts, the three women slipped in via the hanger. It was a long, steep climb down thin grappling line. None dared look down, seeing the thousand-meter plunge that awaited a misstep.

With the belts engaged, they were able to sneak successfully to past the guard. Opening the door into the base would give them away, though.

That's where Bastila came in.

Mission crept up to the computer terminal and started slicing while Bastila made a small gesture towards the guard.

"You're feeling very tired."

Astoundingly, the guard yawned, stretching his arms and lolling his head as though it were hard to stay awake.

Bastila's eyes were dim and unfocused as she continued her suggestions. "The closet looks awfully comfortable. I'll bet your superior wouldn't notice if you took a nap in there..."

Shuffling to the supply locker, the sleepy guard stepped in and closed the door behind him. Bastila made another gesture, and the padlock on the outside of it snapped shut.

That gave Mission enough opportunity to finish jamming the security on the door. It swung open and the three made it inside.

T3-M4's code undid the lock, and Carth hoped the Sith Security papers and a generous amount of bluffing would do the needed trick. Zaalbar's hands were tied behind his back in a pair of cuffs that didn't shut properly. Oh, well, it was all for looks anyway.

They rolled right up to reception, and Carth threw the papers on the desk in front of the woman on duty.

"Listen, sister," He was layering on the attitude, trying to play the part of a self-important mercenary "I've busted this alien scum for your bosses, and I expect my damn payment. Just wave me through so I can talk to them!"

She got up and paged through the papers. For a moment, Carth believed it would work, but she looked at him again, and her hand moved away from the door's switch towards the alarm. Carth reacted quickly, grabbing her wrist so hard he hoped he didn't break any bones.

"What? You think because I'm pretty I must also be stupid? Those papers are expired, and there's no arrest warrants here for...for whatever that is behind you. Tell me what you are doing here, or I hit that alarm and call every soldier on the base!"

"Listen, lady. I don't want to hurt you." His hand went for his holster. The frightened woman began to babble.

"Don't...don't shoot! I never wanted any part of this! I would have quit when the Sith took over, but they said they wouldn't let me!"

Carth let her wrist go. "Get out of here. Move!"

She ran out the door like a blaster shot.

TeeThree rolled up to the reception terminal and gave a set of cheery beeps as he sliced in. Carth pressed his comlink.

"Team B—we're in!"

Kairi responded via the com. _"So are we – east side of the base. Which way has fewer guards?"_

"TeeThree is on it...damn, it's locking him out. Says that the governor's personal codes are needed. Checking..."

The sound of a door sliding open and blaster shots followed.

"Go right! Elevator's at the end of the hall, past the control room," he said before ducking under the desk to dodge incoming fire.

Four soldiers and an officer had poured in, filling the room with a hail of blaster fire. Zaalbar let out a terrible howl and charged right at them, dodging shots with a speed Carth never thought possible for something that large. With an ear-splitting angry growl that sounded like a curse and probably was, the Wookiee grabbed the officer by the chest, lifted him up, then spun around to use the unfortunate man as a shield for an incoming volley of blaster fire before hurling the body into the squadron, bowling them over. With another furious swipe of his enormous paw, he clobbered over another guard, his neck bending unnaturally as he hit the floor. The last guard found out what a Wookiee's punch could do.

Screaming with rage, Zaalbar turned around, looking for anyone else that was attacking. Carth ducked beneath the reception desk as Zaalbar came charging.

"Hey, Zaalbar, hold it!"

Another shout and Carth narrowly dodged the paw coming for him.

"Hey, buddy! It's me...Carth...Kairi and Mission's friend, remember?"

As if his brain suddenly snapped into place, Zaalbar stopped his charge, and Carth would swear until his dying day that the Wookiee blushed!

T3-M4 warbled a few singsong notes. Carth checked the terminal. The little droid was still plugged in, and had locked down the room. The three of them were safe for the moment, but Carth didn't know how much longer that would last.

“Good job, TeeThree. Now, let's see if we can give them something to worry about other than us.”

Mission sliced the lock to the security control room. Unfortunately, the warping effect that made stealth belts so useful also made it impossible to fight, as sight and sound were warped in such a way that they wouldn't be able to shoot or strike accurately.

They planned for this, too. Bastila's double-bladed, yellow saber flared to life. Kairi pulled her vibrosword, and Mission had a heavy blaster in hand.

They expected a fight, and they got one.

Three technicians were caught unawares, cut down before any of them could reach the alarm, but they did engage the security droids, and those were even more trouble. Their poor aim was easy enough to work around. Their armor plating wasn't. It took several shots from Mission's blaster to fell one, and Kairi struggled to get an opening to jam her sword into the circuitry. Bastila's lightsaber, on the other hand, sliced their armor like it was tissue paper.

Mission reached the console before Kairi's communicator flared to life again.

_"Team B to team A!"_ Carth's voice was the most welcome sound there could be. _"Do you copy?"_

"I'm here," Kairi said. "What happened?"

_"Tell Mission I got to see what a ticked-off Wookiee looks like. We've got your wing sealed off, but the Sith's pulled the alarm. I can't tell how long we have. You've GOT to get those codes."_

Mission looked up. "Got it! I've also provided a little distraction for our Sith friends."

"What kind of distraction?"

Mission snickered. "Nothing much. Just all those security droids are now reading THEM as the enemy. Between that and a couple overloaded conduits...I'd say we've bought ourselves a little time. Come on!"

The lift sped them up to the governor's quarters. Compared to the brightly-lit and sterile atmosphere of the base below, the penthouse apartment was richly decorated. Artwork hung from the walls, a soft carpet covered the metal floor. Several large plants thrived beneath the vast skylight, which was above most of the city lights, allowing faint light from the moon and stars. The workstation was in the far corner, and Mission made a beeline for it.

She had just started to reach for the entry pad when...

The lights flew on, blinding them all with blazing overhead light for a moment. Their eyes adjusted to the brightness just in time to see a man stride into the room. He was tall and broad-shouldered, carrying a double-bladed Echani staff. He ignored Mission, looking directly at the other two women.

"Who dares interrupt my meditation? Wait..." He gave a predatory smile. "The Force is strong with you...very strong..."

Kairi stepped slightly in front of Bastila. The man raised his weapon.

"Who would have thought Force Adepts could be found on this insignificant planet?" He chuckled. "I'll enjoy this. Your talents are no match for a disciple of the Dark Side..."

Bastila engaged her saber, the sun-yellow blades flaring to life. "You're only fooling yourself."

He reached out with one hand. Mission gasped, clutching her throat. Kairi's eyes went wide, and she rushed the governor, breaking his concentration and freeing Mission from his grasp. Unfortunately, he smacked her with the flat of his staff, sending her sprawling.

"Killing you three will be just what I need. My master will grant me my lightsaber for this..."

Before he could run Kairi through, Bastila's saber blocked the blow, allowing her to roll out of the way. Clash! Parry! Slash! A priceless oil painting was torn to shreds.

Kairi ran over to Mission, making a quick check. The Twi'lek girl was gasping, but she was still breathing. With a mouthed "Go," Mission pointed to the battle between the Sith governor and Bastila. The cortosis-weave Echani design was holding up well to the lightsaber and what he lacked in dexterity over Bastila, he made up for in brute strength. Plus, Jedi did not wear armor and the man had no such prohibition.

Blows traded faster than the unaided eye could track, making them both almost a single blur of motion. He raised his hand, and Bastila was knocked backwards. While she was dazed, he lifted his blade and made aim for her neck.

For Kairi, still on the other side of the room, time seemed to slow. She felt a surge of emotions; Bastila’s stoic resilience, the governor’s sadistic euphoria, Mission’s fading panic. Her fingers ached. Behind her temples, she felt a surge of pain and raw fear. It all gained focus, like sunlight through a prism, flowing through her and into her hand.

She _pushed_. 

The Sith governor registered a moment of shock. As if an unseen hand grabbed him, he was bodily lifted from the floor and hurled into the wall, striking with enough force to hear the shriek of scraping metal and the sickening crunch of bone. Blood spurted from his head and made an ugly smear on the wall. By the time his slide to the floor ended, and time resumed its normal pace, it was clear to see that his neck was snapped and his skull had crushed with impact.

Kairi started at her hand, unable to move.

Bastila quickly shook off the stun with the governor's demise, and raced over to Kairi, taking her shoulders.

“Kairiana...Kairi...I’m all right. Listen to my voice….deep breath...”

Kairi felt dizzy, her stomach doing backflips and her hands cramping painfully. “That's impossible. I shouldn’t have been able to…”

“I know,” Bastila said quickly. “But we have to get out of here. We can talk about this later, all right? We have to concentrate on the task in front of us. Can you do that?”

Yes. They still had to escape with the codes, meet up with Canderous, get to the ship, and get off planet. Panic would not serve them. Kairi nodded, pushing down the fear and confusion to concentrate on the present.

Mission looked at them both, confused, then down at the now-dead governor with a shudder. She had been watching the terminal and downloading the codes to her datapad. She obviously hadn’t seen what happened. "Got 'em."

Getting out of the base was easier than getting in, especially since Carth, TeeThree, and Zaalbar had cleared the way for them. They already knew they'd not be able to go back to the hideout after this. Fortunately, Mission's knack for knowing all the hiding places came in handy a last time as they spent the next few hours dodging the patrols charging after them as they escaped deep into the Lower City, not stopping until they were quite certain they had lost any pursuers.

Now, it was time for Canderous to live up to his end.

* * *

High above the planet, the Sith fleet hovered. Aboard the _Leviathan_ , flagship of the Sith fleet, an imposing figure watched the planet below. His face was covered in a metal half-mask and his shaved head was decorated with vibrant blue tattoos that stood out against his ashen skin. His cold eyes had the look of dead stars. He stood with his hands behind his back, his gray cape draped over his right shoulder, his red bodysuit standing out vividly among the sea of gray and black Sith uniforms and polished silver armor.

Approaching him was a man with graying hair and the rank bars of an Admiral. Saul Karath had never been fond of Force wielders; they were always an unfortunate necessity, causing as many problems as they solved. It was not the first time Karath addressed the Dark Lord directly, but a part of him often worried if the current approach would be the last.

"You summoned me, Lord Malak?"

Malak's voice was processed through a synthesizer on the mask, but it still held a blatant cruelty that no droid could ever match. “The search for Bastila is taking too long. We cannot risk her escaping Taris. Destroy the entire planet."

"Lord Malak? The...the entire planet? But...there are billions of innocent civilians on Taris, not to mention thousands of our own troops on the surface."

Malak's eyes grew colder as he stared down the admiral. "Your predecessor made the mistake of questioning my orders, Admiral Karath. Surely you are not so foolish as to repeat his mistake."

Kriff. Karath knew what happened to his predecessor. The cleaning droids were mopping up specks of blood and other tissue three days later. He put up his hands in a placating gesture and backed away slowly. "Of...of course not, my Lord. I will do as you command, but it will take some time to get the fleet in position. I will begin immediately."

"Very well. Dismissed, Admiral."

Karath turned to the communications officer. "Hail the other ships, and tell the helm to get the _Leviathan_ into position."

He made a hasty retreat from the bridge, cursing the choices that landed him in his current position. It had been a simple matter at the time. The Senate was too busy bickering and the Jedi were too busy gazing at their navels while the Fleet struggled to fight back against the Mandalorian invasion. Revan and Malak told them both to sit on the proverbial spike and joined the fight.

The fight with the Mandalorians ended, and Revan made a pitch to her admirals; the Mandalorians were just a feint, one front in a larger war. She wanted to know who was going to go home to the Republic and who was going to keep fighting.

The choice to keep fighting was quite obvious at the time. The first time he had reason to doubt it was when he tried to plead with his first officer to see reason. He couldn’t tell Carth what Revan told him; military secrets and all that, but he tried to play to his lieutenant’s stubborn loyalty. Unfortunately, Carth’s stubborn loyalty was to the Republic – not his commanding officer.

Then there was bombing Telos. Lovely planet. Very much a shame to do that. And it exposed a huge rift with his Sith bosses he hadn’t realized was present. Revan apparently wanted the planet taken alive, and had been testing Malak with the details. When Malak gave her a dead husk of a planet...Well, Malak had taken to covering the lower half of his face and speaking with a vocordor the next time Saul saw him. Revan assigned him to Malak’s ship, and Saul more than suspected it was one of her “creative” punishments.

And a year ago, one more bridge was burned when Malak ordered him to go and fire on Revan’s ship. It was done.

So now, he was stuck between Malak’s volatile temper and a crew full of barely competent sycophants, any number of which was probably weighing the merits of killing him to take command versus being stuck with the burden of reporting directly to Malak.

He looked out the planet and pinched the bridge of his nose. Taris. Lovely planet. Shame had to go and do this.

One of his junior officers approached him in the hall. “Admiral, would you like an update from the commanders on the deployment of our forces?”

“What I would like, Ensign, is a kriffing drink. Then, get me the deployment reports.”

* * *

Canderous was waiting for them, right on schedule, in the back room of Javyar's Cantina. He apparently expected her to bring the whole party, as he had staked out a large table.

"I figured you'd be back," he said. "None of us get off the planet unless we all worth together. I know you got into the Sith Base last night. And I know you've got the codes. So, what do you say? I've got the speeder parked right outside. We can go to Davik's base and right to the _Ebon Hawk_."

"What's your plan from there?"

"Davik's always looking for new talent for his organization. He had a front row seat to the swoop race. Too bad we had to leave just as it got entertaining.” He was looking Bastila up and down and smiling knowingly as he said it.

Bastila ignored him – or pretended to. Canderous turned back to Kairi.

“He's been asking about you since you knocked out a couple of his goons trying to collect payment in The Maze. That's why I got the idea in the first place and started looking for you. Once we're in, it'll be just the two of us. The rest of your crew can wait at my home a block away."

"It sounds risky," Bastila said.

Kairi nodded. "We have the codes. You just get us to the ship."

"And the sooner we get off this rock, the better," he said. 

* * *

Davik appointed himself like a king, controlling an entire tower located in the wealthiest neighborhood and using the penthouse as his command suite. A vast "throne room" sat in the middle and large wings branched off from it. The "throne" itself was an imposing chair with an elaborate set of controls attached for monitoring and controlling various aspects of the estate. Davik himself was a balding man in his late sixties, someone who likely obtained power by starting as a hired gun and either working or killing his way up the ranks. Calo Nord stood to his left, the scarily odd little man evaluating Kairi carefully.

"So, Canderous...I hear you've brought someone with you. Most intriguing if I say so myself. You usually travel alone."

"Not like you to take on partners, Canderous," Calo Nord said. "You're getting soft."

"Shut up, Calo. You may be the newest kath hound in the pack, but you're far from top dog."

Davik glowered at both men. "Enough! I will not having my top men killing each other. Bad for business. I'm sure Canderous has a good reason for taking on a partner."

“Davik, this is Kairi Niko. I managed to convince her that there could be a place for her among the Exchange.”

He walked right up to Kairi and grinned broadly. "Ah, yes. Good judgment, Canderous. I had a fine view of the swoop race, _and_ the brawl afterwards. Very impressive." He smiled down at her. "Just what is your background anyway, young lady? Swoop gang? Freelance mercenary? Former soldier?"

Greed rolled off this man like the smell of old trash. She remembered Leto. She remembered what Zelka told her. While she was able to bite back the urge to argue with him, her voice still came out sharper than she wanted. ”I'm a linguist, Mr. Kang."

Davik's eyebrows almost hit his receding hairline. "That so? Well, aren't you the surprise? An elegant fighter with top of the line brains. Not too often you find a combination like that." He took her hand and kissed it. Canderous was stone-faced, but Calo glowered at her skeptically, a bolt of suspicion and jealousy from the small man.

"Canderous was right, Miss Niko. The Exchange is always looking for new talent, and with a war going on, times are good. You could have a bright future with us."

* * *

Davik gave them a tour of his estate. He showed them the slave quarters, the guard barracks, and the lavish entertainment room. This place was mind-numbing. Corruption, violence, and greed covered the walls like invisible grime. Canderous was apathetic to the surroundings; scantily dressed slaves with dull eyes serving heavily-armed "guests," feigning interest while their eyes betrayed fear and resignation. Expensive, lowbrow art pieces decorated the walls; excesses in both color and medium trying to compensate for the tacky imitation quality in the design. 

The centerpiece of it was the _Ebon Hawk_ herself. Kairi was stuck by the sleek lines of the freighter, the efficiency of its flat design and the strength of construction it suggested. Clearly this was not designed to Davik's personal tastes, he must have acquired it from someone else. 

"You like it, Miss Niko? I'm glad," Davik said. "The _Ebon Hawk_ is the my pride and joy. She's the fastest ship on the Outer Rim, and just as strong as she is fast. My girl's born to run blockades; even the gun turrets are Aratech top-of the-line. Far better than the Czerka trash the Sith contract with."

Kairi was checking the layout of the hanger as she watched the ship, noting that the hanger security was just as tough. Automated turrets and ceiling-mounted cannons lined the bay. Without proper codes, she and Canderous wouldn't last more than a few seconds without meeting a nasty end.

"The _Hawk_ was born to run, but she's been grounded by the blockade. Progress in getting the launch codes to override the Sith automatic turrets has been slow going. With those, I could come and go as I wished." He motioned her to follow. "But we should continue the tour."

As they toured the northwest wing, Kairi started to feel sick. From behind one of the few doors Davik didn't open, Kairi could hear the faint sound of human screams. Canderous elbowed her ribs and nodded to the door when Davik had his back turned. Kairi nodded a reply, already plotting the fastest routes from there to the hanger in her head.

The last stop was the guest wing. With instructions not to disturb his guests or trespass in unauthorized areas, Davik and Calo Nord left the room. The door closed, leaving Kairi and Canderous alone.

"All right, we're in. Now, all we have to do is override Davik's security and get off the planet. No sense in waiting here, though. Sooner we're off Taris, the better."

As soon as Davik and Calo Nord were outside the guest wing, Davik dropped the genteel act. "Calo?"

"Yes, sir?"

"It's about Canderous. That Mandalorian's got something up his sleeve, and the woman he's with...I wouldn't trust her, either."

"Want me to kill them, sir?"

"Not yet. I'll force them to make a move. It won't be long. When they do, you and I will be waiting in the hangar for them."

"They're going to try and steal the ship?"

"I know Canderous. Nall told me that the woman picked up the droid on his behalf, and my contacts at the Sith base let me know they had a break in. He's already got those codes. All we have to do is pry them from his cold, stiff hands."

"I will render them cold, Mister Kang. And I'll enjoy it."

Canderous and Kairi had planned for this to be a rather simple affair. No sooner had the sound of Davik's and Calo's footsteps faded than Kairi's ears pricked up.

"Do you hear that?" she asked. "That high-pitched whine?"

" _Tayja!_ " Canderous swore and dove for the ground, shoving Kairi down with him. Less than a second later, the trap went off, razor spikes shooting out from the ventilation and striking the wall rather than their heads. " _Besom'ad!_ That Hutt-spawn must have figured out about the double cross! Come on!"

Sure enough, they had to battle their way through the corridors. Davik must have sent out the alert and intended to kill them. Just about every mercenary and guard on the payroll showed up. Canderous saw the high odds and started to grin. The rush of battle hadn't lost a damn bit of charm.

He had his blaster cannon on him, and Kairi added her sword, slicing through the incompetent low-rent bounty hunters and the petty Tarisian gang members Davik kept at court.

Kairi was busy with three of them, parrying their vibroblades and dispatching them with quick efficiency. Canderous knew what her style certainly looked like, but his eyes had to be deceiving him. Despite her size and grace, she eschewed the dancing style of the Echani. No, this was a bit too direct. It almost looked like...

BOOM! The entire room shook. The power flickered.

"What in the -" Kairi looked around. "I don't think that was Davik's doing!"

"I've a bad feeling about this," Canderous grumbled. "Come on. This way."

In the far northwest corner was Davik's other guest wing—the one for _unwanted_ guests. The room would have met with a Sith’s approval; two torture chambers, and an array of pain inducing devices neatly displayed on a rack—electro-whips, laser scalpels, shock batons...apparently, Davik was one to prefer pain to blood as Kairi didn't see any of the cruder implements like knives and leather whips on display.

Two torture droids wheeled out from the wall, their spidery bodies displaying blasters, drugs, shockers, and other nasty appendages. Kairi ducked a syringe and hacked off the arm. Canderous took out the head of the other with the blaster cannon. Kairi took off another couple arms before Canderous blasted the rest of it to bits.

With the droids gone, they could see the only occupant of the room’s cages; a pale-looking man. Kairi yanked the cage release. He shuddered and leaned against the wall.

"You...you have no idea what it was like in that cage. I...I don't know how long it would be before I went mad. My...my name's Hudrow. I tried to quit, and Davik threw me in here. I can't give you anything tangible as a reward." He smiled wanly. "But I've a better way to hurt Davik. Here, do you have a datapad?"

Kairi pulled hers from her belt pack, and Hudrow punched in a quick entry, handing it back.

"Those codes will take out the security system around the _Ebon Hawk_! I used to be her pilot. Use those codes to steal it. Then you can do what you like with it."

Kairi nodded. "Thank you. Now, go! Get out of here as fast as you can!"

Hudrow nodded and ran out the door, vanishing into the darkened corridors.

"We've got what we came for. Let's get out of here," Canderous said.

CRASH! The halls seemed to tilt and the explosion sounds were getting more frequent. More than once, they had to climb over rubble to get to the next door, but the hangar door opened smoothly and Kairi put in the codes at the terminal by the door.

At the door on the other end of the hangar, someone else was making a break for the _Hawk—_ Davik Kang and Calo Nord.

"Damn those Sith. They're bombing the entire planet. I knew they'd turn on us..."

Upon noticing them, Davik sneered at them. "Well what do we have here? Thieves in the hangar. Let me guess, you're here to steal my ship for your get away and leave me while the Sith bomb this place to dust?"

Canderous shrugged. “That's about right."

"Your plan, wasn't it, Canderous? Should have figured you'd do this."

"You should have known better than to cheat me, Davik. Consider this collecting my back pay."

"I'll take care of them, Davik." Calo's voice still didn't break monotone.

"Make it quick, Calo. The Sith mean business. If we don't get on the ships and get out of here, their bombs will kill us all."

"This should do it." Calo Nord brandished a thermal detonator, but before he could activate it, the Sith got a lucky shot, caving in a portion of the ceiling and trapping the smaller man under a pile of permacrete. The detonator was knocked from his hand, sailing into the air. Davik pulled his gun and shot Canderous narrowly dodged the blast and brought up his cannon to return fire.

What Davik failed to notice was that Calo's detonator rolled from the wreckage to land right behind him. An ear-splitting explosion rocked the hanger. Canderous barely kept his feet. Kairi dropped to the ground. If there was anything left of Davik Kang after that, it wasn't bigger than a bottle cap.

The explosions were getting closer and closer together. Through the open hanger, they saw fire raining from the sky, the tops of buildings blowing apart and debris flying everywhere. A chorus of screams and panic reached their ears.

Canderous started yanking teathers and hoses, getting the Hawk ready for a fast takeoff. 

"Take the speeder and get the rest of the crew." When Kairi was about to ask if he'd wait, Canderous answered for her. _< <"I swear, on my honor as a warrior, that I will not leave unless there is no other choice.">>_

Kairi nodded and ran back down the ramp, powering on the speeder and driving like she was in the swoop finals.

* * *

Aboard the _Leviathan_ , Saul Karath reported to Darth Malak. He was watching the assault glumly, staring past Malak and onto the green-blue surface and the vast gray of the landmass now being turned to ruins. What a waste. If Malak hadn't been so kriffing impatient, they could have _handled_ this. Of course, he had made his bed long ago and he must sleep in it. 

"Taris is defenseless before our assault Lord Malak. They offer no resistance. The City is in ruins."

Of course, Malak was bloodthirsty as ever and paid no heed to Saul's glum mood. He once had been a great presence on the battlefield, but had never been one for subtlety. Revan led surgical strikes. Malak led slaughters. "Resume bombardment, Admiral Karath," Malak responded, sweeping his hand angrily. "Wipe this pathetic planet from the face of the galaxy!"

****

"He swore on his warrior honor," Kairi said. Her face was twisted as if in pain. "And I believe him."

"We're as good as dead, then," Carth said.

The bolts of red and green cannon fire rained down on the city like the wrath of a mad god. Screams and shouts pierced the air with the sound of falling rubble and the sudden collapse of buildings. Orange and red flames swept the city like a flood, consuming and charring anything it its wake and making the air thick and hazy.

Mission was shell-shocked, eyes wide...seeing it and unable to respond. Her mouth was half-open as though she wanted to make a sound—scream, cry...anything. Zaalbar pried her away from the window and forced her to bury her face in his chest, arms wrapped protectively around his friend as if trying to protect her from the hell exploding around her.

Kairi pulled into the hanger, not even bothering to cut the engine. Sure enough, the _Hawk_ and Canderous were there. Mission ran ahead and jammed one of her slicing devices into an exposed panel, causing the ramp to lower. They all herded aboard; Mission and Canderous first, Zaalbar next, Carth leading Bastila, TeeThree rolling up the ramp after them, and Kairi in the rear. She slammed the ramp control shut after all were aboard.

Canderous pushed Carth ahead. "Kairi tells me you're a pilot. Get in and fly!"

Carth wasn't in a position to argue, taking the controls as Bastila jumped in the co-pilot chair. "And where are you headed?"

"The guns. We're going to have to shoot our way out of this one."

Kairi signaled the bridge. "I'm in turret one. Who's got two?"

"Our new warrior friend," Carth said. "Hold on, everyone!"

The launch codes cleared, the engines fired, and the _Ebon Hawk_ broke atmosphere, speeding right between two Sith battleships.

"We've got fighters incoming. Hold them off while I get the jump coordinates in!"

There were a dozen of them. Sith fighters were of an odd design—their silvery bodies resembling more a dart than a ship. They dove and shot, but their speed was only overcompensation for their frailty.

Over the headset, Kairi could hear Canderous laughing. This was like a gigantic game for him—never mind the life and death stakes!

Swinging the cannon in a high arc, she fired and a snub fighter went up in a satisfying ball of white. Another snub fighter veered on the edge of cannon range. Kairi cursed as she missed it and its shot hit one of the _Hawk’s_ generators. Grimly determined, she swung the canon until she got it in the crosshairs.

Nailed it!

As another prepared to make its dive, she clipped its wing and the tiny craft spiraled, helplessly crippled. The fourth made two passes, blasting one of the shield generators before it could be destroyed.

The sixth made a suicide run for the ship, only for Kairi to land a direct hit before it came close.

That was when the blackness around them streaked and blurred. The _Ebon Hawk_ was in hyperspace. They had escaped.

As soon as they were safe, Kairi shakily climbed down from the turrets, stumbling into a cramped little room that was likely the ship's medical bay. She barely made it to the fresher before her stomach reacted violently. Heaving until she was spent, she flushed the contents, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her skin was ashen and her eyes glassy. Her whole body ached, her hands and feel felt like blocks of stone riddled with pain.

Crawling into the medical bay just off the main hold, she had only enough strength to hoist herself onto the treatment cot before blacking out.

_What's happening to me?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And part one is now complete! Yes, more books to come, and they will diverge far more from the game mechanics as they go on. 
> 
> This was originally written back in 2003 as a gift to someone who hadn't had access to the game. I allowed her to pick the name, the gender, and appearance (it's the one in the game files listed as "Asian Female #2"). As such, it did start out as very much "sticking to the script" until she got a chance to play for herself, which allowed me in later chapters to start diverging.

**Author's Note:**

> I originally stopped this story because the Allegedly Canonical Revan showed up to SWTOR and I got an _annoying_ amount of "Revan's a DUDE, it's CANON!" blowing up my inbox. I still have no karking clue how to write around the damn Vitiate thing.
> 
> A reinstall of the game brought the old feels back. When fanfiction.net turned the formatting to hash, I realized I would have to do a rewrite top to bottom in order to get it to Ao3, so good excuse to clean it up and go.
> 
> And if anyone wants to mod their game and do a "Kairi" build, I will be happy to share the stats. It'll require some mods and a save editor.


End file.
